#but then when i take friends by their word that i can always talk to them and open up and say that i need them

[crowwolf]

@vera-king-hrfl - the definition of distraction...

Ok - picture this - tiny 4'11", 90 lbs of elf/fey petite woman who has orc green skin (light), dark green/with lighter green mixed in hair, completely black eyes (sclera, irises), a penchant for large devilkin, sarcasm for days, and a big ass shadow dire wolf.

what will your character be like if they were in your shoes?

They'd be angry all the time...wondering how the fuck they got stuck in my life. She'd hate it.

is your oc the mom friend or the dad or the childish one in their friendgroup ?

HAHAHAHAHA 100% childish, but ready to throw down like a momma bear.

do those "poet, king, soldier" quiz for your oc. im being fr

I used this quiz https://www.quotev.com/quiz/16869551/Soldier-Poet-King/

do the "36 questions to fall in love" quiz as your oc.

A VERY Kitalia response to this would be - not a fucking chance. I had one look at it and my unmedicated ADHD went...uhhhhh....Kit would be the same.

ik your ocs trauma have an impact on their character, but how would they be like, if they hadn't gone through that experience?

It had a massive impact on her entire being. If she hadn't gone through it, she'd probably have been a lawful neutral/neutral good being instead of the complete chaos gremlin she is.

does your oc have similar tastes as you do? (music, art, fashion, coffee/tea etctetc)

Nope! Well, some, but mostly no. She will not ingest any mind altering substances, but she does love a good chai. Her music taste are extremely varied - so that is similar to me. She has zero love of fashion and only dresses fashionable when others make her/ask her nicely lol! Art - meh. She lived history, why would she want to read about it. Speaking of reading, aside from being very intelligent - she never learned to read. Her life was chaos and, even though she a few hundred years old, she focused on language and music and SURVIVING over reading.

will they "i only live once so I'll do it for the plot." or will they "i only live once ffs, i don't wanna die." ?

Kit's more - I'll live a long fucking time and can't die so LET'S DO THIS!

what is your ocs opinion of love? how is/was their love life on a scale of 1-10?

Kitalia loves the idea of love, but has an extremely low opinion of herself, so ends up with a dude who is a mother fucker, until she find the guy that treats her like the princess she is. So her sex life is a 10 - wildly a 10...her love life...eh...3 until princess dude then an 8 (nothing's perfect, except the sex).

will your oc let go of someone precious to them when they know they're putting them at danger?

Always. She would sacrifice herself a million times over to save those she loves and would never let them know because she'd die if something happened to them.

around whom does your oc lets their guard down?

@vera-king-hrfl's Oc Ryldinn in the modern AU. Damays later on, Raphael. In BG3 verse Vera's OC Max the orc!

are they romantically constipated or a hopeless romantic?

She's a bit of both. Can't say the words outright unless it's life or death (nearly), but lavishes the romance on the ones she loves.

what type of music does ur oc like?

All music - she's a bard in BG3 (well part bard) and a DJ in mordern AU - she loves music.

write a lot about your oc if you're struggling to get to know them. find a drabble prompt, and write what they'd do.

uh....not today.

do they trust others easily or do they get trusted by others easily?

Absolutely not. It takes forever for her to trust. She only trust Ryl in modern AU after following him around and learning more about him (much to his surprise). She isn't easily trusted either. Her eyes freak people out.

what is something your oc will never talk to anyone about? (their answer can be deep, like some emo trauma or like smthng like back when they shit their pants or smthng yk)

Her trauma - it started at birth with her mother viciously rejecting her (literally as a newborn), carried on to witnessing the murder of her father and subsequent abduction/enslavement to the murderer. Long life, lots of awful shit.

do they give off golden retriever energy, or a black cat energy? (or both?)

Black cat 100%

what will THEIR opinion be on YOUR current life? will they be ur friend? will they trust you?

They would trust me but only cause my life is such utter banality and chaos that she'd know I'd have nothing to hide or reason to betray her. She'd be that one fun aunt friend.

will your oc survive in a fantasy setting, a war setting, a dystopian setting, a futuristic setting, a medieval setting? will ur oc survive after getting stranded on an island, or a forest?

Kitalia has extremely good survival skills that have been honed for a few centuries of off and on again homelessness. She had to learn to hide extremely well, to the point that even a drow couldn't find her. She a survivor, whether she wants to or not.

does your oc like their parents, do they like how their life is, do they feel like they're born in the right gen?

HATES her mother (to be fair, Mother has tried to kill her). She can't remember her dad, but he was a good man. She's ambivalent about her life. It is what it is.

if they are ever to get one wish definitely granted, what would they wish for?

To no longer be afraid.

how did they react to their first kiss? (if they have had it by now lmao)

wellll...first voluntary kiss - shocked and pleasantly surprised.

what's an ideal day for your oc?

Sitting in a peaceful wood, with Hexxus nearby, her head in the lap of her beloved while being read to. Just at ease and unafraid.

lastly, who does your oc go to when they've fucked up?

In modern AU, Ryldinn or Raphael. In BG3, Max or Astarion cause he can cope with her chaos.

How to get to know your characters better?

(feel free to add your own thoughts to this list, hope it helps!) req by @miricalebabyy44 <3

what will your character be like if they were in your shoes?

is your oc the mom friend or the dad or the childish one in their friendgroup ?

do those "poet, king, soldier" quiz for your oc. im being fr

do the "36 questions to fall in love" quiz as your oc.

ik your ocs trauma have an impact on their character, but how would they be like, if they hadn't gone through that experience?

does your oc have similar tastes as you do? (music, art, fashion, coffee/tea etctetc)

will they "i only live once so I'll do it for the plot." or will they "i only live once ffs, i don't wanna die." ?

what is your ocs opinion of love? how is/was their love life on a scale of 1-10?

will your oc let go of someone precious to them when they know they're putting them at danger?

around whom does your oc lets their guard down?

are they romantically constipated or a hopeless romantic?

what type of music does ur oc like?

write a lot about your oc if you're struggling to get to know them. find a drabble prompt, and write what they'd do.

do they trust others easily or do they get trusted by others easily?

what is something your oc will never talk to anyone about? (their answer can be deep, like some emo trauma or like smthng like back when they shit their pants or smthng yk)

do they give off golden retriever energy, or a black cat energy? (or both?)

what will THEIR opinion be on YOUR current life? will they be ur friend? will they trust you?

will your oc survive in a fantasy setting, a war setting, a dystopian setting, a futuristic setting, a medieval setting? will ur oc survive after getting stranded on an island, or a forest?

does your oc like their parents, do they like how their life is, do they feel like they're born in the right gen?

if they are ever to get one wish definitely granted, what would they wish for?

how did they react to their first kiss? (if they have had it by now lmao)

what's an ideal day for your oc?

lastly, who does your oc go to when they've fucked up?

[twistedpink]

I have like an unusual amount of dad!asks in my inbox rn, and they’re all sauve/responsible types, but what about your goofy guys? The ones that complain about “the ol’ ball n chain” at work only hours before worshipping you with a level of husbandry that can only be taught through backbreaking cuddle deprivation?? IM SO NORMAL ABOUT THEM SHUT UP (reader is implied afab- talk of “your” kids. Maybe he gets pregnant idk)

Husband!Ace HATES doing dishes with every fiber of his being, but he also likes getting fed.. Decisions, decisions,, Very into the “good cop/bad cop” routine. He’s good cop, obviously, but he sucks up after every tantrum you handle with the same puppy eyes he shares with your runt. It’s especially effective after he cuts out alcohol for fear of your kiddie getting high off of more than just life, and he gets hottttttttttt,,, Totally a neighborhood dilf- You’re guarding him like a particularly sexy discount, and he loves it <3 If you have more than one kid he makes a joke of “running out of options”. Naturally, he names the kid after Riddle for the bit. It backfires so completely that everyone’s calling him some kind of angel, and Riddle 1.0 contributes to the fucking college fund. His life couldn’t be worse if he tried.. At least his spouse’s still hot <3

Husband!Ruggie in two words. Grill. dad. And he looks good doing it! He’s literally living the dream,, Stable job, loving marriage, and just enough kids to keep him busy well enough into retirement- If you’re looking for anything productive being done on the weekend, you won’t find it at the Bucchi house. He’s done his time, but he’s always excited to ignore work emails! The fridge is fully stocked, and at your insistence he’s way too involved in HOA politics. The two of you are also totally couple goals- All your friends can agree the Bucchi’s are the people to call for birthdays. The only issue your kids ever have are overeating and toy theft.. Wonder where they got that from? (DAD BOD RUGGIE DAD BOD RUGGIE UGHHHHH)

Husband!Floyd’s just thankful you didn’t accept his proposal in Highschool,, He can admit he wouldn’t have been a good partner then, and that’s okay, because he makes up for it now. He works remote, always snacking and in range of his shrimpy for bad days- Plenty of cuddling, and so much clinging it’s rare to see either of you alone in public. He immediately attaches to your kids the same way- always sleeping in their rooms and kissing on their baby faces,, despite how hard he worked to get the big family he’s wanted, I imagine you probably had to go through IVF or surrogacy for any success on account of biological differences. This really shows in their childhood before it’s safe to take any transformation potions,, It’s torture to just observe the baby from outside their aquarium, but Floyd’s present enough for two until they’re old enough for a whole new world <3

¡Bonus!

Husband!Epel’s the only teenage dad on the list, and you guys got hitched QUICK after meemaw chewed him out for reckless sex- Even if it got her the perfect in-law. Gets all muscular after college, and keeps you whipped with those hip muscles that make a V. Ends up having more little girls than he knows what to do with. They all play winter sports at their dad’s behest, and he damn near shoots any boyfriends on the property. 7/10

Husband!Idia gets to live the housewife dream- Gaming pc next to your work computer, and a full 30 minutes of blissful silence when your little power naps after hours of Daddy plays! and Freakin’ bots!!,, He had to quit swearing when the baby started mumbling less than pg first words, but they fist bump when kiddie can avoid getting grounded by “the final boss”- So all thing’s considered, your player 3’s not so bad after all. (He’s still mourning the loss of his limited edition “Magic Rumimi- Sakura dreamscape” figurine, but give him a couple years and it’ll blow over.) 8/10

Husband!Lilia’s never been able to get this vulnerable with anyone. EVER. He’s working on it with his own kids, but it’s much harder to communicate with a toddler, especially when half-fae aging is SO sporadic. They’ll both have to watch you age, but your light never dims, and he’s getting all the pictures he can! Your baby/ies grow up in a home so full of love it’s embarrassing, and there’s always memories to look back on fondly of time well spent <3 10/10

@bju3c0re @kyokills @rinship

[sleepylittlestarwrites]

♡ ∩_∩ („• ֊ •„)♡ ￣U U￣ ⤷ 21 days ✰ pairing: soft!dom⌇xavier ⤷ fem!sub⌇reader

✰ cw: mdni, graphic sexual content, based on xavier's 21 days card, fingering, marking (bites/hickeys), oral: ꒰f&m receiving꒱, possessive behavior, no protection, slight spoilers to xavier's shooting stars myth, loss of virginity (both xavier and mc), consensual somnophilia at the end (if you squint), so much squirting, cum... slurping? (so cringe I’m sorry, idk what to call it😩), dry humping/cumming in boxers, self-pleasure, mild dirty talk compared to my usual xavier, multiple orgasms, overstim, angel/sweet girl/good girl used sparingly

• wc: 10.3k 🌸

• tags: @kodaswrld & @issysh3ll - as always; thank you for the dividers! :))

Xavier sits on the edge of the bed, lost in thought as he gazes at your sleeping form. The moonlight filtering through the window casts a soft glow on your peaceful face, making you look even more breathtaking than usual. He settles for simply drinking in the sight of you—the way your lips slightly part, the fan of your long lashes against your cheeks, the soft swell of your breasts beneath the sheets. Tomorrow, this mission ends, and who knows if or when he'll get to be this close to you again.

Over the past 21 days, Xavier has poured every ounce of his being into making this assignment memorable for you. Each day, he’s gone out of his way to pamper and spoil you, hoping that somehow, someway, you'll realize the depth of his feelings. Cooking your favorite meals, planning surprise outings, and even indulging in your love for anime marathons—he’s done it all.

And there were moments… fleeting yet precious, where Xavier dared to hope his feelings might be reciprocated. Like during one of the many days spent lounging around in front of the TV, when you fell asleep in his arms, your head resting comfortably on his chest… Or the soft giggle of your laugh echoing in the kitchen as he taught you to cook one of his ancestral recipes. 

Each interaction feels like a precious treasure, a fleeting glimpse into a life he desperately craves but fears he can never fully have—your head tilting back in that laughter, free and carefree in a way he rarely sees. Your slender fingers brushing against his arm as you reach for popcorn, sending sparks of electricity racing across his skin. The tender expression on your face as you watch him train, pride and something much softer simmering in your eyes.

It’s the quiet moments that speak volumes, though. Like the time you caught him stargazing on the balcony, and instead of interrupting, you simply leaned against the railing beside him, following his gaze to the vast expanse above. “It's beautiful,” you murmured, your voice barely louder than a whisper. Almost as beautiful as the stars I see in your eyes.” Those words had lodged themselves in Xavier’s heart, a beacon of hope amidst the uncertainty eating away at him.

But as the moon makes its way to the tip of the sky, signaling the end of your time together, reality and doubt come crashing down on him full-force. Maybe you really do just see him as a friend, an ally, nothing more... And that knowledge brings a bittersweet pain to his heart, a sting sharper than any blade.

As the faint whisper of your voice floats through the air, Xavier's heart skips a beat, drawn towards you like a magnet. He can only watch in stunned silence as the sheet slips from your body, revealing your bare breasts covered only by a thin white tank top. His breath hitches in his throat, heart pounding wildly against his chest as his eyes catch the outline of your nipples, perking in the cool air around them. It's almost like seeing you vulnerable for the very first time, a sight reserved only for his dreams until now.

You start to stir slightly under his gaze, instinctively nuzzling closer to his warmth without waking up, and Xavier swears he feels time stop completely. Unable to resist, his eyes trail slowly down your neck, taking in every inch of exposed skin, the graceful curve of your collarbone, leading down, down to where the flimsy fabric pools between your breasts. 

With a strangled groan, Xavier forces himself to tear his gaze away from your tempting form, feeling like he's ripping his own heart out in the process. A final, shuddering breath later and he’s slipping from the room, gently clicking the door shut behind him. He moves through the space on autopilot, his body acting on instinct as his mind reels. Upstairs, in the spare bedroom he's been using, he spots the workout equipment set up in the corner. Perfect.

He moves through the motions of his workout with a single-minded focus, sweat dripping down his lean form as he grips the pull-up bar. His muscles strain and flex with each movement, a testament to the rigorous training regimen he's maintained for centuries. The burn in his arms is a welcome distraction from the storm in his heart, but even as he pushes his body to its absolute limit, he can't shake the image of your sleeping form from his mind.

So, still shaken, Xavier drags himself into the bathroom adjacent to the guest room. He turns the faucet to the coldest setting possible, bracing himself as the icy water cascades over his heated skin, trying desperately to clear his mind of the intoxicating image of your nearly nude form tangled in the sheets downstairs.

But even as the frigid spray assaults his senses, he can’t shake the vivid memory... His imagination starts running wild, conjuring up scenarios of how the sheets might have slipped even lower while he'd been lost in his workout. Perhaps exposing the delicate curves of your hips, the cute little junction between your thighs...

He grips the tiled wall with trembling hands, knuckles turning white as he fights to regain control. Each droplet of ice-cold water seems to caress his body like ghostly fingers, mimicking sensations he aches to experience with you.

Desperate for distraction, Xavier starts reciting equations, ancient alien languages, anything to occupy his thoughts. But he can’t stop imagining your melodious laugh echoing off the tiles, your slender arms wrapping around him from behind...

With a strangled groan, he allows his resolve to crumble, letting the water grow hotter, his traitorous hand already roaming over his slick, chilled skin. He bites back a groan as his hand drifts, fingers splayed wide as if trying to map every contour of muscle, grazing the soft silvery curls that lead down to...

Xavier hisses through clenched teeth, grip tightening on the tiles as his fingers curl around his hardening length, and with a shaky exhale, he opens the floodgate of forbidden images—phantom touches, whispered words, shared breaths. 

His eyes shut tight as if to block out the temptation, but he's already lost in fantasy, letting his mind wander to what it would feel like to have you pressed against him, your soft curves molding perfectly to the hard, wet planes of his body… He imagines trailing reverent kisses along the elegant column of your throat, tasting the salt of your skin, relishing the quickening pulse beneath his lips…

He murmurs your name then, the sound swallowed by the rush of water. In his mind's eye, you’re looking up at him with hooded eyes, your lips parted invitingly, silently begging for more. Slowly, sensually, he’s exploring every inch of your body, mapping out the constellations of freckles and beauty marks that he's only glimpsed before.

But suddenly, like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head, realization crashes over Xavier. He snaps out of his fantasizing, horror and shame flooding through him as he registers what he's done—what he was about to let himself do. Cursing vehemently under his breath, he wrenches open the glass door and steps out of the shower, nearly slipping on the wet tile in his haste. Even if only in his mind, every single time it feels like a violation, a betrayal of your trust.

Heart hammering, he yanks on fresh clothes with shaking hands. Everywhere he looks, he can practically see echoes of his sinful imaginings taunting him.

“I'm supposed to protect you, not...not defile you in my head like some kind of depraved monster.” Self-loathing laces his heated whisper as he stalks to the dresser, slamming his fist against it in frustration. 

Feeling like a caged animal, Xavier needs to do something else, anything, really, to distract himself from the thoughts rampaging through his mind. So he heads towards the kitchen with determined steps, quietly pulling ingredients and pots from their rightful places. But his hands aren’t steady, thanks to the sudden surge of adrenaline, and the knife he uses to chop vegetables makes jerky movements at best before nearly slicing his finger off. With a muffled curse, he settles for just dropping everything into the frying pan. He doesn't know whether the anger with himself or sheer stupidity made him believe he could cook this time, but within minutes, the room is filled with the smell of burning food.

Just as the smoke detector begins to shrill its warning, a soft, sleep-addled voice pierces through the chaos. “Xavier? What's going on?”

His head snaps up to see you standing in the doorway, a thin, bunny print robe wrapped loosely around your frame. Gratitude surges through him at the sight—at least you're covered now. Still, he can't help but let his gaze linger on the pretty curve of your neck, the way your hair is tousled from sleep.

“I...ah…” He clears his throat awkwardly, realizing he must look like a man possessed. “I was just trying to...distract myself.” The words come out quiet, tinged with embarrassment.

Without thinking, he’s reaching out to brush a lock of hair behind your ear, fingertips grazing your cheek. Your skin is still flushed and warm from the pillow, so impossibly soft… He wants to touch more, to gather you into his arms and soak you in, but he restrains himself.

“We both know I'm not very good at it, though," he mutters dryly, gesturing to the smoking mess in the pan. 

Taking in the scene before you with drowsy eyes and a quirked brow, a mixture of amusement and concern flickers across your features. You definitely walked in on Xavier amidst what seems like some intense self-reflection. Or perhaps a nervous breakdown? Either way, your heart can't help but soften at the adorably disheveled sight of him. The stressed set of his silver brows and the way he nervously avoids eye contact only confirms that something is indeed on his mind. Honestly, you don't think you've ever seen him so flustered before...

“Distract yourself from what?” you ask, taking a step closer, the ties of your robe swaying as softly as your voice. The floral scent of your perfume mingles with the smell of burnt food, creating a strange but oddly comforting aroma.

Reaching out, your tiny hand comes to rest on his forearm, and even through the fabric of his shirt, your touch feels electric, sending sparks racing along Xavier’s nerves. “Is everything okay, Xavier?” Your voice is tender, searching, full of genuine worry.

Xavier stiffens under your touch, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. He's definitely in trouble now… His lips part to respond, but for a moment, no words come out. How exactly does one explain their straying thoughts, their wandering hands, without sounding like a pervert? Or worse, confirming the fact that he might just be one? 

When he finally meets your gaze again, he's acutely aware of the fire in his blue eyes, the smoky haze having replaced his usual calm demeanor. He clears his throat again, a futile attempt to rid himself of the sudden dryness. “I, uh...I had some...um, troubling thoughts.”

Confusion clouds your eyes as you search his face, noting the flush coloring his pale cheeks and ears and the conflicted look in those piercing blue depths. Troubling thoughts? At this late hour? You furrow your brow, unconsciously leaning closer to him as if proximity alone could unravel the mysteries hidden within him.

It strikes you then, as inconvenient as it is untimely, the absurdity of the situation: 21 days later, you are still dancing aimlessly around each other, locked in an endless loop of 'what ifs', both refusing to breach that invisible barrier between you. It's almost laughable, really, in a bittersweet sort of way, how oblivious you both seem to be.

Desperate to ease the tension, to pull you both out of this uncomfortable silence, an idea sparks to life. “I know! Why don't we watch a movie?” You suggest brightly, internally cringing at how forced your enthusiasm sounds. But you forge ahead nonetheless. “We can make some popcorn, get all cozy on the couch… It might help take your mind off whatever’s bothering you.” Your gaze darts to the clock on the wall then, noting the late hour with a twinge of sadness. Only a few precious hours left together before you need to get ready to leave… 

The corners of Xavier's lips twitch into a weak smile as he nods. “Yeah, that sounds really nice.”

Hurriedly, he moves to help you prepare tea and snacks, gathering the necessary items onto a tray while stealing occasional glances at your profile. Something as simple as making tea together feels oddly intimate now, knowing it's possibly the last time he'll be doing it with you like this.

Once everything is ready, Xavier follows you to the living room, placing the tray carefully on the coffee table before settling down next to you on the couch. As the opening credits roll, he finally allows himself to lean back against the cushions, breathing in the calming scent of the tea mixed with the soothing floral notes of your perfume. 

Lost in the movie, your body betrays you, instinctively seeking his warmth and comfort. Gradually, imperceptibly, you allow yourself to drift closer to Xavier, until the mere inches between your bodies are insignificant.

Suddenly, a particularly terrifying jump scare blares from the speakers, causing you to jolt violently. In your panic, your hands fly up to clutch at the first solid thing nearby—in this case, the firm planes of Xavier's chest. Soft breasts press against his arm as you wedge yourself against his side, face burying itself into the crook of his neck with a startled gasp.

“Oh absolutely not!” you exclaim, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. Your racing heart pounds erratically, but you can't tell anymore if it's solely due to the scary scene unfolding on screen since the musky scent of Xavier’s skin fills your nostrils, the rapid thrum of his pulse matching your own. For a moment, you simply revel in being this close to him, wishing you could stay enveloped in his protective embrace forever.

Then his quiet laughter fills the room, warm puffs of air tickling the top of your head as his hand slides over your back in a soothing rhythm. He watches as you huddle into him, heartbeat gradually returning to normal but fingers remaining firmly clasped onto his shirt. 

With a gentle touch, he lifts his free hand to cup your cheek, thumb lightly tracing the curve of your jawline as he gazes down into your wide, scared eyes. Your breath hitches as he starts tracing feather-light patterns along your jaw, setting your nerve endings ablaze with every delicate touch. Those striking blue eyes hold you captive, boring into your soul with an intensity that steals the very air from your lungs.

Almost unconsciously, your tongue darts out to wet your suddenly dry lips, and you watch transfixed as Xavier's gaze zeroes in on the movement. Time seems to stretch and warp around you, narrowing down to this singular, pivotal moment hanging suspended between you both.

“I-is… is everything alright?” Your voice emerges as a trembling whisper, scarcely audible over the pounding of your heart as it picks up in speed once again. But beneath the shy uncertainty in your tone, there's an undercurrent of longing, a desperate plea for him to take this chance, to finally shatter the invisible walls keeping you apart, because you're not so sure if you dare to do it yourself.

“Honestly? It’s everything but alright.”—that would be Xavier’s answer to your question, were he actually able to speak. His gaze shifts down to your mouth, the sight of your plush pink lips stealing the last reserves of his sanity. Despite the desperate need coursing through him, he feels surprisingly shy, almost uncertain. “I…” he pauses, swallowed by the weight of the confession hovering on the tip of his tongue. “I want to kiss you...” The words end up tumbling out in a hushed murmur, laced with hope and longing.

A single, very trembly nod is all you can muster up, a myriad of emotions playing across your delicate features—surprise, joy, nervousness, and above all, overwhelming desire. You hardly even dare to breathe, scared your sudden movement might shatter the moment completely.

As if moving through a dream, Xavier leans in with painstaking slowness, giving you every opportunity to pull away, to rethink. But you remain rooted to the spot, pulse fluttering wildly in your throat as anticipation coils tighter and tighter in the pit of your stomach.

The first brush of his lips against yours is impossibly soft, almost tentative. A question seeking permission, the search for confirmation that this is truly happening. Slowly, savoringly, he deepens the pressure, one large hand coming up to cradle the nape of your neck as he angles your head to better fit his mouth to yours.

He kisses you like you're the most precious thing in the universe, reverent and ardent in equal measure. And the way his lips move against yours… you feel like you could combust on the spot from sheer ecstasy. When he finally pulls back, it's only far enough to rest his forehead against yours, sharing the same air in your mutual, blissed-out daze.

“I… I can't tell you how long I’ve wanted this.” The hushed confession spills from him like a secret hoarded too tightly for too long, an admission laden with unspoken meaning.

Cradling your face in his hands, he examines your features up close for what feels like the very first time—every freckle, every delicate curve, the soft parting of lips slightly reddened from his kisses. And then, like a whispered prayer, Xavier sees the single syllable fall from your lips in a breathless entreaty: “more.”

The whispered plea has his breath catching, heart pounding harder in his chest. Without breaking eye contact, he takes a deep breath and slowly pulls you onto his lap, cradling you like a precious treasure, one he's finally being allowed to rightfully claim.

He starts peppering your face with tender kisses, trailing from your forehead down to the tip of your nose before capturing your lips once more. With one hand buried in your hair and the other tracing lazy designs across the small of your back, he drinks you in like a man finally being fed a feast worthy of his insatiable appetite.

Soft moans escape his throat, mixing with your own needy whimpers as he tastes and trails his lips down the sensitive skin of your neck. Each flick of his tongue against your jugular vein, each graze of teeth against the lobe of your ear sends waves of pleasure rippling through you, making you arch into his embrace and tremble in his hold.

Suddenly, he’s picking you up, your body molding perfectly against the plush rug as he gently lays you down, the heat from the crackling fire casting a warm glow across your flushed skin. He hovers over you, drinking in the sight of your disheveled hair fanning out around your face, cheeks rosy from his kisses, those captivating eyes glazed with desire…

Slowly, reverently, he traces the outline of your parted lips with his thumb, marveling at how they quiver under his touch. "So beautiful," he murmurs, voice low and rough with barely restrained hunger. 

Your hands fist in the silky strands of his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp as you tilt your head back in clear invitation. The feeling of his lips searing a trail down your throat is indescribable every single time, like a flame licking at every nerve ending, leaving a path of molten desire in its wake. “So good,” you whisper breathlessly against his ear, hands tightening their grip on his hair as he continues painting vibrant streaks of pleasure across your body with his mouth.

Large hands skim reverently up your sides, pushing the robe off your shoulders until it pools uselessly at your sides, revealing every inch of the tantalizing expanse of silky skin underneath. But it's the sight of that thin, straining tank top that makes his breath catch, pupils blown wide with sudden, all-consuming lust. Rosy peaks push insistently against the flimsy fabric again, betraying your body's arousal as you tremble beneath his heated gaze.

“May I?” The words are a low, strained rasp, quietly requesting further access to your body laid out so trustingly before him.

“Yes," you whimper breathlessly, lost to everything but the press of his skin against yours and the building ache between your thighs. "Please, don't stop..." His name tumbles from your lips then like a plea, a desperate cry to lose yourself in the madness consuming you both. And losing himself is exactly what Xavier does.

He takes his sweet time, drawing slow, wide circles around your nipples with the pads of his thumbs. He listens to your breathy whimpers, the little sounds you make as he toys with the hardened peaks beneath the fabric, goading you into a state of adorably flustered impatience. 

He finds himself growing increasingly entranced by the heat in your gaze and the tremors running through your body. Watching you squirm in his lap is quickly becoming his new fascination, an intoxicating blend of ecstasy and agony that he just can't resist. 

“Please…” The breathy plea tumbles from your lips unbidden, half-formed and threaded with desperation. Your hips twitch restlessly, chasing the phantom touch of his hands as they skim teasingly along your ribcage. The ache between your thighs starts pulsing with increasing urgency, dampening the thin fabric of your panties.

Impatiently, almost roughly, you yank your tank top over your head and toss it aside. Cool air pebbles your exposed flesh, rosy nipples standing at attention in the warm glow of the firelight. “Touch me," you demand, voice ragged with need. "I want to feel your hands on my bare skin, Xavier. Please..."

Xavier sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of you sprawled out, skin flushed prettily from the heat rolling off the fire, eyes darkened with unbridled desire, begging for his touch. For a split second, he simply stares, almost drunk on your beauty.

Then he's leaning in, a hand coming up to cradle one of those delicious swells, his thumb sliding teasingly over the taut peak again. “So incredibly perfect,” he murmurs reverently. An eager little moan parts your lips as he kneads the other breast just as delicately, drinking in every gasp and whimper that tumbles from your lips. “Like rose petals wrapped in silk…”

His mouth descends upon yours again, inhaling that adorable little noise, greedy for your taste, drunk on your pleasure. One hand strays lower, tracing the luscious curve of your hip, slipping under the elastic band of your panties, sliding back and forth over the smooth, bare skin of your ass.

“Oh f-fuck,” he groans against your lips, burying his face in the hollow of your throat, panting against your pulse. “You're so soft, so warm…”

Lowering his head, he drags the flat of his tongue along the underside of one breast before drawing the peak into the wetness of his mouth. He suckles gently, flicking the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue as his hand continues its sensual massage on the other side.

His eyes never stray from yours… molten blue darkening with barely restrained hunger as he drinks in your every reaction. His control frays visibly with each roll of your hips, each needy sound that falls from your lips. It's clear the leash on his restraint is going fast, slipping another notch as you arch your tit into his mouth with a breathless keen. Soon, Xavier won't be able to hold back the tidal wave of long-suppressed desire crashing over him. Gods, he's almost terrified he might lose control and hurt you...

He pulls back slightly then, studying you for a brief moment before blurting out the first thing that pops into his head. "Are… are you sure about this?" he rasps, almost choking on the words.

“Because...because I'm barely hanging on by a thread here.” Confessing this to you leaves Xavier feeling almost naked, vulnerable in his own skin. It's both a frightening and exhilarating feeling. “I don't want to do anything you'll regret when we leave here,” he admits hoarsely, the fearful admission lining his words with raw sincerity.

Your hand cups his cheek tenderly, fingertips brushing lightly over the edge of his jawline. In this moment, you can feel the tension coiled tightly within him, see the vulnerability swimming in those mesmerizing blue depths. It takes your breath away, the depth of emotion, the sheer weight of his concern for your wellbeing.

“I've never been more certain of anything in my entire life, Xavier," you murmur, voice soft yet filled with conviction. Shifting closer, you nuzzle your nose against his, bringing your forehead to rest gently against his own. "I want this. I want you. And I could never, ever regret being with you. It just isn’t possible.”

To emphasize your point, you pepper feather-light kisses along his cheekbone, down the line of his throat. Each press of your lips is a whispered promise, an affirmation of your desire. “Let yourself go,” you breathe against his pulse point. "I can handle whatever you have to give me.”

Your free hand slides down his chest, fingertips tracing the rigid planes of his abdomen before coming to rest just above the waistband of his pants. You look up at him through lowered lashes, eyes smoldering with blatant lust. "Show me," you purr, voice dripping with honey and sin. "Show me how much you want me, Xavier."

His eyes bore into yours, a storm of emotions swirling in those cerulean depths—desire, adoration, disbelief, and a fierce intensity that steals your breath. For a long, suspended moment, he simply stares at you, as if committing every detail of your face to memory. The air between you feels so charged… practically electric with the weight of this pivotal moment.

Then something shifts, a subtle change in his demeanor. The gentleness remains, but it's now tempered with a steely resolve that sends shivers racing down your spine. Large hands come up to frame your face, thumbs stroking reverently along your cheekbones as he holds your gaze captive.

“Just remember: you asked for it.” In one fluid motion, he surges forward, claiming your lips in a searing kiss that steals the very air from your lungs. It's a kiss of possession, of raw need, his tongue delving past your parted lips to stroke against yours in a blatant imitation of much more intimate acts.

Then he breaks the kiss, only to descend upon your exposed breasts. His mouth latches onto one peaked nipple, suckling hungrily with a roughness that wasn't present earlier. He alternates between showering it with hot, wet kisses and scraping his teeth lightly over the hardened bud, earning delicious whimpers from your parted lips.

Meanwhile, his hand is hard at work on the other, squeezing, fondling, as if trying to etch the very feeling of you into his skin… His grip is almost punishingly firm, but it only serves to stoke the fire of need smoldering in your belly, urging you to beg and plead for more.

And just when you think you can't take it any longer, that he's going to leave that nipple just as bruised and needy as the last, he suddenly releases it with a soft pop, dragging his mouth up the center of your chest, over your collarbone, until he's level with your ear.

“I couldn't sleep earlier, you know,” he confesses quietly, large hands continuing their sensual exploration of your curves. “So I came to check on you, and…” he pauses, swallowing thickly. “The sight of you lying there in this thin little top, your nipples practically begging for my touch…”

One calloused palm cups your breast, thumb circling the stiff peak. "It took every ounce of my control not to crawl into bed with you then, to wake you up with my mouth all over these perfect tits..." The crude words from his typically sweet mouth, combined with the heat of his gaze boring into you, makes your stomach flutter uncontrollably 

“I even had to jerk off in the bathroom because I couldn't control my thoughts.” His words send a shiver of delight down your spine, fueling the growing heat in your core. “Because I couldn't stop thinking about fucking you, right there in your bed, your cute little body wiggling and gasping beneath mine.”

Holy hell… the imagery that invades your mind as he speaks sets your blood aflame. You can't help but picture him, flushed and panting, gripping himself with a white-knuckled fist against the cool tiles of the bathroom. Stroke after stroke, reliving the fantasy of having you splayed out before him, aching and needy, as he sinks into you…

Tearing yourself away from the erotic mental image proves difficult, but you force your gaze to lock with his, drinking in the molten blue fire consuming those icy irises.

“I wish you had,” you rasp, reaching up to thread trembling fingers into silvery locks. Your other hand maps the defined expanse of his back, nails raking lightly before digging in. “Woken me up like that, that is. I would've let you do anything you wanted.” The words are barely a whisper but they're weighted like a solemn vow.

Something in Xavier seems to break with your admission—the dam holding back centuries of restrained emotion crashing and shattering in a mere instant. Gone is the brooding tension, the tightly leashed control that defines him. In its place blooms unrestrained delight, shining through his face with luminous joy. He looks at you with an expression that seems to say 'Is this real? Do you truly want me that much?' His almost boyish grin somehow manages to be disarmingly innocent yet still sexy as sin. 

Slowly, reverently, he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, knuckles grazing your cheek. "Is that so?" he murmurs playfully, nose brushing against yours. 

This pure happiness radiating from him, his usually stern features transformed by that boyish smile, makes you feel all warm and squishy inside. Impulsively, you tilt your chin up to capture his lips in a sweet, fleeting kiss. “Mmhmm,” you hum against his mouth, punctuating the affirmation with a light peck to the corner of his lips. Trailing your fingers through the soft strands of his hair again, you take time to marvel at how it feels like cool silk sliding over your fingertips, like moonlight turned tangible.

“Let me put it this way…” you murmur shyly, ducking your head to hide the fierce blush spreading across your cheeks. The idea of admitting the depth of your desire for him aloud fills you with giddy nerves and liquid heat swirling low in your belly. But the adoring look on Xavier's face, the sheer happiness you’re bringing him, emboldens you.

Slowly reaching out, you trace the elegant line of his jaw, marveling at the texture of his smooth skin beneath your fingertips. Your thumb skims across his lower lip and catches there.  “I want you so badly sometimes that it physically hurts," you confess, voice lowering to an awed whisper thick with longing. “Like...like a constant ache, thrumming through every cell.” Your free hand fists in the front of his shirt, tugging him impossibly closer. 

“This proximity we've shared this past month, not being able to touch you the way I craved?" A little noise escapes you as he presses in, large hands coming up to bracket your ribs. With a shaky inhale, you risk one more statement heavy with meaning. “I was dreaming of you tonight, when you came into my room to check on me. I dream of you every night, Xavier… Asleep or awake.

This soft confession of yours causes a soundless explosion to ignite in Xavier's chest. There's so much pent-up emotion clawing for release… he barely knows where to start or how to even begin to articulate everything he wants, everything he's never even admitted out loud. But what he can do is react. Without either thought or grace, he moves. Leans in. Claims your lips in a powerful, bruising kiss.

There's a fierce desperation in the way he touches you now, an urgency that ignites like a forest fire threatening to consume all in its path, spreading from one acre to another, unable and unwilling to be tamed until there's nothing left but charred remains and ashes in its wake. 

Even in the dancing glow of the fire, you can see the intensity smoldering in his icy blue gaze as it rakes over your body. Calloused fingertips skim down your sides, your hips, leaving tingles in their wake. Dipping into the waistband of your panties, Xavier hooks his thumbs under the delicate lace, slowly beginning to drag the scant fabric downward.

“The dreams…” he murmurs, the soft words laced with barely restrained lust. “They’ll be nothing compared to the real thing. And I'm going to make each and every one come true... Starting right now.”

With a final tug, he strips your panties away completely, baring you fully to his hungry gaze. Then his mouth is trailing scorching kisses down your throat, pausing to suck lightly at your racing pulse point. Lower and lower he goes, mapping the swell of your breasts with lips and tongue, dipping into your navel teasingly. Finally, thank the gods, he settles between your parted thighs.

For centuries, Xavier has trailed in the shadows of your life after life, an unseen protector, a quiet admirer, a devoted lover. Ever patient, ever steadfast, his focus on you has never once wavered.

And now here he is, reverently tracing his tongue along your dampened folds, worshiping your pussy as his fingers dig deep into your thighs to hold you down. He buries his face deeper, lapping at your sensitive flesh with firm strokes. 

As Xavier's skilled tongue paints swirls around the sensitive bud, your fingers tangle desperately in his hair. Hips bucking into his touch, shameless moans spill freely from your lips as jolts of pure pleasure radiate through you.

Through hooded eyes, you watch him work, face flushed and eyes feverishly intense, completely enraptured by your reactions. Each shudder and keen is met with a low groan that vibrates deliciously against you.    

Lost in a haze of sensory overload, Xavier grinds his cloth-covered erection desperately against the plush rug below. Each roll of his hips and swirl of his tongue around your throbbing bud brings him closer to the edge.

“Fuck, angel,” he rasps between long, languid laps. "Your taste...I could drown in it." Strong hands grip your thighs harder as his grinds against the floor grow almost frantic. The sight of this incredible man reduced to dry humping the ground, clearly wild with need for you, sends a dark thrill zinging down your spine.

But suddenly, he pulls back, panting harshly. Eyes glazed with lust meet yours, a telltale flush high on his cheekbones, spreading up to his ears. "I..." Xavier begins hoarsely, voice strained. “This is a first for me...”

In the midst of confusion over such a mind-blowing revelation, his hot mouth closes over your clit again and sucks HARD.

Panting, moaning, your senses spinning out of control as the pleasure becomes almost overwhelming, you blink at him in a daze of pure delight. With no hope of words if he keeps on, you reach for him and tug at his hair, trying to bring his eyes back to yours.

Gasping, you manage to force words past the desire clogging your throat, soft but laden with importance. "Me too," you admit to him, almost embarrassed to do so, somehow worried that this knowledge might scare him off. 

But Xavier's eyes just widen in shock, a myriad of emotions playing across his lovely features as your confession sinks in. Disbelief wars with elation, awe with relief, as he processes this precious gift of information.

“Wait... you..." His voice emerges rough with feeling, barely even there at all. Slowly, reverently, he crawls back up your body, settling between your splayed thighs without putting his full weight on you. Large, calloused hands cup your face gently, thumbs stroking your flushed cheeks.

“You’re saying that I would be...your first, too?" The question hangs in the charged air between you, practically trembling with scarcely contained emotion. Wonder colors Xavier’s tone, and he can’t help but feel that maybe this is the universe's way of making up for all the years of unrequited yearning and pain he’s suffered.

A hushed noise, desperate and needy, spills from Xavier as his mouth descends onto yours, swallowing down the breathy confirmation spilling from your lips. It's an intoxicating melody that drives him wild, a song he wants to hear over and over again.

Slowly, deliberately, his fingers continue their sinful torment, a tantalizing dance that's only purpose is to have you writhing and moaning beneath him as he catalogs each quiver, every cute little sound..

They trace maddeningly slow paths over your skin, turning your soft whimpers into full-fledged gasps of pleasure. The longer he does this, the louder you get, the more it fuels his confidence, his satisfaction.

Two long fingers steal through your slick folds and begin making lazy circles around your throbbing clit, the sensation sending shudders rippling through you. 

His thumb slides down to your entrance, circling and teasing. Then suddenly it thrusts inside, followed by a second finger, penetrating you deeply in a slow and torturous rhythm, testing your readiness. “Oh god..." he groans against your lips, feeling you spasm around him.

“So fucking tight…" With his thumb still hooked inside you, he presses upwards to massage your g-spot while his fingers fill you up perfectly. 

Your back arches off the plush carpet, head thrown back in ecstasy. Electric pleasure courses through every nerve ending, building to a crescendo with each perfect stroke.

"Yes, oh god yes!" you keen breathlessly, hips rolling wildly to meet his thrusts. The obscene squelch of your arousal fills the room as he works you skillfully towards your peak like he’s prepared for this moment his entire life. Every nerve ending is alight with blissful fire, muscles starting to quake and tighten.

Through half-lidded eyes glazed over with lust, you watch him work, drinking in the sight of this magnificent man coming undone for you. Sweat gleams on his brow, muscles straining as he holds himself back from simply fucking you into the ground.

On his own lust-fueled cloud, Xavier feels the tight, squeezing pull around his fingers, an unmistakable sign that you're giving in to the tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you.

“I can—I can feel it. Oh god, angel, you're—" The breath gets knocked out of him as pleasure sweeps over him, clouding his vision, fogging his thoughts as his cock pulsates, spilling hot seed between his thighs, filling up his boxers and soaking through his pajama pants.

The sight of him coming undone is just too much, your world shattering into a million tiny pieces. Throwing your head back with a silent scream, your pussy clamps down HARD on his pistoning fingers, fluttering wildly as wave after wave of mind-melting ecstasy consumes you. Clear fluid gushes out, soaking his hand and your inner thighs, trickling down to the rug beneath you.

The intensity of your climax, coupled with his talented fingers milking every last throbbing pulse of pleasure from you, leaves you drained and sobbing, the absolute sweetest sort of broken. Panting heavily, limbs jelly-like, you collapse back onto the carpet with a shuddering sigh.

His eyes catch yours again as you peek up at him sheepishly, mumbling an embarrassed apology, and immediately that trademark smile lights up his face. And the look in his eyes? Pure male pride and delight at the mess he's reduced you to, a satisfied grin curving his full lips as he shakes his head.

“Don't you dare apologize," Xavier murmurs firmly. "Never apologize for being perfect." 

And then he does something that blows your mind even more, if that's even possible. Ever-so-slowly, he brings his soaked fingers to his mouth, parting his lips, letting you see the tip of his tongue snake out, tasting what belongs to him. His moan echoes yours.

Then he’s leaning in, tongue lapping at your messy slit with unrestrained hunger. He groans at the taste, relishing the evidence of your pleasure like the finest wine. Strong hands grasp your hips, holding you steady as he eats you like a starving man, determined not to waste a single drop. 

All thoughts of embarrassment scatter entirely as new tingles of arousal bloom under his relentless ministrations. The wet glide of his tongue drags along your sensitive folds, delving deep to lap at your clenching hole.

“Do it again," Xavier all but growls against your pussy, the vibrations stoking the growing flames. "Wanna taste it straight from the source this time."

He seals his lips around your throbbing clit and sucks HARD, two thick fingers plunging back into your sopping cunt.

Squealing in shock and ecstasy, your second climax crashes over you mere moments after the first. Back arching nearly painfully, you fist your hands in his hair, grinding yourself wildly against his hungry mouth.

Xavier is like a man possessed… greedy noises rumbling in his chest as he laps up your newest flood. The obscene slurping sounds fill the room, punctuated by your keening cries. He seems determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from your shaking form.

Before you've even started to come down, he's already working you towards another peak. Fingers pump in and out rapidly, thumb curling just right to hit that magic spot inside you with every thrust. His tongue swirls and flicks mercilessly over your sensitive bundle of nerves, alternating between kittenish licks and powerful sucks.

"Too...much...oh god!" you babble incoherently, overwhelmed by the sheer onslaught of sensation. Drool leaks from the corner of your slack mouth as your brain short circuits from overstimulation. The pleasure is edged with a hint of pain, pushing you to your limits.

But he still just won’t stop… growing bolder, more demanding. Groaning into your pussy, he adds a third finger, stretching you deliciously. Barely registering his husky murmur of “need… to get you ready for me... Just a little more, I promise," cuts through the haze of blinding pleasure clouding your mind, and you can only whimper and moan helplessly. Your body is no longer your own, entirely at the mercy of Xavier's wicked mouth and fingers…

And gods, he plays you like perfectly, a willing instrument in his hands, coaxing out ecstasy with seemingly endless stamina. Sweat glistens on his brow, muscles flexing beautifully as he worships your quivering sex with single-minded focus.

“It’s just… you taste so good…" Xavier groans appreciatively, briefly releasing your swollen clit briefly. “Could feast on this pretty pussy for hours…” To punctuate his statement, he dives back in, lapping and suckling like a starving man.

His tongue delves deeper, spearing into your fluttering channel, fucking you open with filthy slurps. Then his fingers are slipping back in, pumping faster, harder, stretching you exquisitely as they curl over that magic bundle of nerves.

“Yes! Oh fuck yes!" you keen wildly, much too far gone to care about volume or composure. The coil in your belly winds tighter, tighter, ready to snap at any moment.

Xavier still can't quite believe what's happening, his fingers buried deep in your slick heat as his lips and tongue continue their torturous assault. His name echoes around the room as a chant in response to his efforts, music he plans to listen to every goddamn night if he has anything to say about it.

He's aware that you're close again, cries and whimpers ripped from your throat like a desperate plea for salvation. And so he begins his final crescendo, pulling out all the stops for your finale. His tongue performs lazy, teasing circles around your throbbing clit while his fingers piston in and out in tandem with his lips. 

A particularly sharp nip catapults you over the edge into sheer ecstasy. Pleasure, pure and molten, sears through every nerve ending, your back bowing sharply off the floor as you come undone again with a ragged cry of his name.

With a triumphant groan of his own, Xavier follows suit, hips jerking erratically as he spills hot and heavy into his clothing.

As the waves of euphoria gradually ebb, leaving you limp and twitching in the aftermath, you sense rather than see him sit back on his haunches. His breathing is harsh and labored in the charged air between you. When you finally do manage to focus on his face, his expression makes your heart flutter—adoration mingled with possessive hunger, like a wolf eyeing its prey.

"I...we should probably..." he starts quietly, voice hoarse with exertion and residual need. "Maybe we should stop here tonight…” But even as he says it, there's clear reluctance underlying the words, his hands twitching with the urge to touch you further.

Blinking up at him dazedly, eyelids drooping from post-orgasmic bliss, you slowly shake your head in soft disagreement. The tenderness of his voice, that note of reluctance as he suggests stopping purely for your wellbeing, only makes you want him more.

Smirking softly, your body humming with contentment, you move to straddle his lap. Ruffling fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, your gaze softens as you take in his features. Cheeks flushed from pleasure and exertion, pupils dilated to near-black pools in a way that sets all your nerves alight… His lips are red and slightly parted, panting softly in the otherwise quiet room.

“I know you want more, Xavier…” you whisper playfully, half-teasing, but also completely sincere. "I can see it written all over your face.” One hand caresses down his jaw to his neck, urging him closer until you can claim his lips in a languid kiss.

Your fingertips trace delicate patterns along the strong column of his throat, savoring the rapid thrum of his pulse beneath the pads of your fingers. Breaking the kiss with a soft nip to his bottom lip, you pull back just enough to meet his smoldering gaze head-on, a mischievous glint dancing in your own.

“I know I want more,” you breathe out, the words sending shivers racing down your spine as you say them aloud. "I want to feel every thick inch of you inside me, filling me up until I'm stuffed full and aching from it…”

To emphasize your point, you roll your hips, grinding your slick folds along the prominent bulge tenting the front of his pajama pants. The fabric is already damp with his release, providing delicious friction against your sensitive flesh.

“And you're still so hard for me already," you purr approvingly, circling your hips in languid figure-eights. "Like your body knows exactly what it needs...what we need.”

Freeing his impressive length, you watch with hooded eyes as it springs forth, long and thick and so deliciously messy. A thrill of anticipation shoots through you at the sight, your inner walls clenching hungrily around nothing.

“I mean, we both knew that wasn't going to be enough, didn't we?" you murmur playfully, giving him a firm squeeze before sliding down his body and settling between his spread thighs.

“Not when we have all these pent-up desires finally coming to a head," you continue breathlessly, placing feather-light kisses along his length as you speak.

“And not when being with you is all I can even think about anymore…”

Peering up at him through lowered lashes, you maintain unwavering eye contact as you extend your tongue, circling it around the swollen head and flicking over the weeping slit teasingly. Your free hand splays out, mapping the chiseled planes of his abdomen, feeling the muscles jump and flex beneath your palm.

“And you taste so good, Xavier…” you murmur with a pout, “you won't make me stop, will you?"

“No, of course I won't make you stop…" Xavier rasps, large hands coming to rest on either side of your head. His fingers thread through your hair, not pushing or pulling, but resting there like a promise and a plea all at once. 

“Not now, not ever," he promises, voice rough with barely restrained need. His cock twitches insistently against your cheek, begging for attention.

Emboldened by his desperate pleas, you part your lips and take him into the wet heat of your mouth inch by delicious inch. Your tongue swirls around his thick shaft as you sink lower, lips stretching obscenely around his considerable girth as you swallow him down. "Mmmph!" A muffled moan vibrates around his shaft as you begin to work him over with enthusiastic bobs and slurps.

“Fuck yeah… just like that sweet girl, take it all for me," Tears start streaming freely down your face as Xavier suddenly snaps over the feeling of your hot mouth on his cock and takes complete control, roughly fucking your throat with powerful thrusts of his hips. Drool escapes the seal of your stretched lips, dribbling messily down your chin to splatter on your bouncing breasts. The obscene sounds of his flesh slapping against yours fill the room, punctuated by your choked gasps and gurgles and Xavier’s own guttural groans of pleasure.

“Such a good girl, taking me so pretty on your knees like this,” he grunts, his fingers digging painfully into your scalp now as he uses you like his own personal doll, making you swallow his length over and over until you nearly choke on it.

Despite the intensity and roughness, there's a deep satisfaction burning within you at having such a powerful effect on him. His loss of control, the primal desperation in his touches and thrusts, it's like a drug—intoxicating and addictive.

With a final few forceful thrusts, Xavier reaches his breaking point. His body tenses, muscles locked as his balls draw up tight, fingers digging hard into your scalp as the first jet of his cum spurts into the back of your throat, hitting the reflex point that has you coughing and gagging. But he doesn't stop fucking your mouth, driving himself home again and again until he's milked himself dry.

Then, falling limp on the plush rug, completely spent and covered in a fine sheen of sweat, he pants loudly, his cock twitching against his stomach.

Raising himself up on an elbow, he gazes down at you with the softest expression. One hand reaches out to gently caress your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear as he speaks, voice barely a murmur and laden with emotion. "I… I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asks it like it's the most important question in the world, his anguish like a palpable thing in the air.

Drained and panting heavily, you take a moment to compose yourself before crawling languidly up the length of Xavier's trembling form. Straddling his hips, you grind your dripping core along his rapidly stiffening shaft, coating him in your slick arousal. “Never,” you breathe as you gaze into his eyes, pupils blown wide with renewed lust and emotion shining bright.

As you position yourself over Xavier, grasping his shaft and rubbing the broad head teasingly along your soaked slit, his hands come to rest on your hips, stilling your movements. "Wait, let me... " he says softly, blue eyes dark with affection and desire as he looks up at you.

In one smooth motion, he lifts you effortlessly, positioning you just above where he needs you most. Slowly, reverently, he begins to guide you downwards, the flared tip of his cock parting your dripping folds as he lowers you inch by excruciating inch. “That's it, just like that, angel. go slow... let me feel every bit of you taking me in," Xavier coaxes, voice low and heated as he watches your face intently, committing every fleeting expression of bliss to memory.

Halfway in, he bottoms out, his cock knocking right up against your cervix. For a few seconds, he simply stays still, his hands cradling your hips and his head falling back onto the floor with a soft sigh. Then he begins to move. Rocking your hips gently in sync with his so that each slow withdrawal drags a gasping moan from your lips, and each deep reentry has you throwing your head back with a sweet sob of pure rapture.

Lost in a haze of sensation, Xavier can’t even breathe as he revels in the exquisite feeling of your slick, velvety walls gripping him so tightly he can barely think past the pleasure.

Picking up the pace slightly, he rolls his hips, grinding against you as he pulls you down to meet each upward thrust. "So perfect," he groans brokenly, "taking me so well, like you were always meant to be filled by me." The dirty talk spills from his lips unbidden, his usual restraint shattered by the mind-melting pleasure of finally claiming you.

Soft, breathless praises fall from your kiss-swollen lips. "Mhmm, so good," you gasp out, tilting your hips to take him impossibly deeper. "So big, so hard inside me... stretching me so perfectly."

Moaning shamelessly, you drape yourself over his chest, peppering fervent kisses across his neck and jaw. "Made for me," you echo, nipping at his earlobe before sucking it between your teeth. 

Your back arches off the floor as Xavier suddenly flips your positions, looming over you with a predatory gleam in his eye. "Yep, all for you," he agrees breathlessly. Gripping your thighs, he pushes your knees toward your shoulders, spreading you open completely and slipping back inside you with a sharp snap of his hips. 

"Oh f-fuck yes!" you cry out, the new angle allowing him to hit impossibly deeper, stoking the inferno building low in your belly.

Xavier sets a relentless pace now, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room as he pounds into you. Each thrust rocks your entire body, breasts bouncing with the force. Panting harshly, he leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, greedily swallowing your desperate mewls.

Breaking away, he peppers hot kisses along your jaw before nuzzling into your neck, inhaling your scent. “Say it," he whispers against your skin, hips never faltering in their merciless rhythm. “Tell me who you were made for… tell me… that you’re mine." Fingers wrap loosely around your throat as he gazes down at you, blue eyes blazing with need, silently begging for your affirmation.

Although each pounding thrust steals your breath away, you force your lips open and moan out the words that he so desperately needs to hear. "Yours, Xavier," you gasp out, "Only yours... Now and forever.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you arch up to meet him as he pistons into you. The slight pressure he applies on your throat sends an electrifying bolt of lust through your system, forcing a strangled moan from your lips.

"You're so hard... S-so deep inside me…" you whimper, your voice music to Xavier’s ears as it echoes around the room. 

“Mine,” he whispers against your throat, punctuating the word with a sharp nip to your pulse point. His hips stutter, losing some of their rhythm as he nears the edge. "A-angel, I'm not... Gonna last..." 

The words tumble from your lips in a breathless, urgent tumult. "Xavier, please..." your voice trembles on the edge of a sob. "Come inside me, please, please... I need it…”

At the sound of your needy, wanton pleas, something in Xavier snaps. With a hoarse shout of your name, he hilts himself fully inside you and stills, every muscle locked in place. Hot spurts of his release paint your inner walls as he pulses and throbs, pumping what feels like endless streams of his cum deep into your spasming cunt.

And with one final grunt, Xavier gives you the final shove you need, setting off a ripple effect that carries through your system, dragging you under with its force. You writhe beneath him, riding out the tide of ecstasy as he continues thrusting, almost brutally hard. "So good…" he grunts, eyes blissed out and unfocused as he takes your body in reckless abandon.

Just when you're sure you've rung every last drop of satisfaction from him, he’s flipping you onto your stomach, spreading your knees wide as he reinserts his half-hard cock, resuming right where he left off.

“I need more," he murmurs, hands grasping the firm globes of your ass, spreading them deliciously wide as he drags the velvet head along your slick, puffy folds before slamming home again.

“Oh… oh god, Xav-" your protest cuts off into a keening cry as he hits a particularly sensitive spot, his sudden aggression and dominance shocking and thrilling in equal measure. He seems insatiable… still so hard even after coming so many times, the wet squelch of his cock churning up his own release filling the air obscenely.

As another climax swiftly builds, you bury your face in the plush rug, whimpering and mewling shamelessly into the fibers. The dichotomy between his outward gentleness and the barely restrained beast within is borderline frightening in the best possible way.

A fresh surge of heat floods Xavier's chest as you arch against him, demanding he fucks you harder. His hips pull back until only the thick head of his cock remains nestled against your sopping cunt, before slamming home over and over again, the *thwump* of his pelvis smacking against the lush curves of your ass. The impact has ripples spreading outward, causing the muscles in your thighs and lower back to quiver as you come again.

But as the last of your tremors fade away, Xavier still refuses to let up for a single moment, instead driving into you harder, faster. One hand tangles in your hair, pulling back until your entire body is arched impossibly, offering yourself completely to his ravaging thrusts. The other snakes around to roughly palm your breast, thumb pinching and swirling the sensitive bud in an echo of the way his cock fucks into you.

"P-please," you whine brokenly, pushing your hips back even more to meet his increasingly erratic thrusts. Your brain feels fuzzy, overloaded with sensation as he wrenches your body into a bow, presenting yourself to him so wantonly. "I n-need... More..."

Drool leaks from the corner of your slack mouth as he uses you ruthlessly, his movements growing clumsier and more desperate by the second. Panting heavily, sweat-dampened strands of silver hair clinging to his forehead, Xavier keeps that same relentless pace as he pounds into you from behind with a reckless abandon that only hints at the barely restrained desire eating him alive from the inside.

His blunt nails dig crescent shapes into the soft plush of your ass as he spreads you wider, allowing him to sink impossibly deeper. Leaning over your arched back, he brings his lips close to your ear, hot breath ghosting over the shell as he breathes out, "Didn't think... I had this in me... but the way you look... sprawled out... taking everything I give you..." 

He punctuates his words with a low groan, sharply biting down on the junction of your shoulder and neck. "Mine..." The word slurs slightly, breath fanning your cheek in warm gusts. “Only mine... ruin you for anyone else... won't ever crave another's touch... just... just mine..." He promises in a heady mixture of boyish excitement, desperate adoration and dark satisfaction.

As dawn breaks, painting the sky in brilliant streaks of orange and pink, Xavier finally relents, pulling out of your thoroughly used hole with a wet pop. He scoops you up into his strong arms, carrying you bridal-style towards the car, pausing occasionally to pepper your face with tender kisses. Once home, the moment your apartment door closes behind you, he pins you face-down against the kitchen counter, kicking your legs apart impatiently.

“Can’t wait another second," he murmurs, grinding his stiffening length between your ass cheeks. "Need to... fill you up 'til it takes." Strong hands yank your pants down, baring your dripping folds to the cool air. Then he's pushing inside you again, stretching you open around his thick girth. "Missed this already... missed the feeling of you squeezing me..."

He continues his ruthless rhythm, kneading the tense muscles in your back with eager hands as his hips meet your pliant form with unrestrained aggression. One particularly forceful pump pushes you up onto the tips of your toes, eliciting a throaty cry from your parted lips. “So pretty like this... marked up... covered in my cum…”

All day and night, Xavier ravages your body with a seemingly insatiable hunger, bending and folding you in every imaginable way. On the bed, on the couch, even pressed up against the shower wall as steam fills the room, his hard cock never stops moving within you. Whenever you feel yourself starting to go limp with exhaustion, he seems to find a fresh surge of energy, determined to wring every last ounce of pleasure from your spent form.

As the second day bleeds into a third, with your body aching deliciously and your thighs painted with his copious releases, he finally succumbs to sheer physical depletion. Still nestled deep inside your fluttering walls, he collapses sideways, pulling you flush against his sweat-slicked chest. Mumbling incoherently into your hair, he manages to get out a drowsy "love you,” the words slurred and heavy with spent passion and emotion.

Curling protectively around your smaller form, he nuzzles into the nape of your neck, seeking your comforting scent and warmth. His breathing evens out, drifting into a deep, sated slumber, the steady thump of his heartbeat lulling you into peaceful rest within the shelter of his embrace.

[kooyabooya]

PURITIES, IMPURITIES

yunjin & kazuha x m reader

31k words

Alright - this is kind of one of those cliché, freeze-frame moments from those sitcoms that puts you right in the middle of the action, or- when you wake up with a pounding headache of hangover after having an apocalyptic night out and somehow everything you’re trying to remember is nothing but a complete blank. 

Yunjin sells the part right away, groggily after waking up saying: “God, can you believe what the hell happened last night?” 

Sadly, you don’t recall it from the get go. 

Kazuha’s body curling the pillow serves as the first piece of information at the scene of the crime: your bed. 

“She’s gonna give us an earful of this when she's up,” you say. “We’d be lucky if she’s in a good mood by then.” 

“There’s nothing to freak out about,” and Yunjin’s reassurance gives you a warming glimmer of hope. “I’ll tell you this. She came to me, first.” 

“Are we talking back then or earlier?” 

Yunjin slaps your arm, laughing. She’s aware that the inquiry was entirely rhetorical, a minor press to her buttons. Her thumb rubs Kazuha’s temple, moving a few strands of messy hair away from her face. Bright rays of sunlight breaking through the drapes and the evidence is riddled all over her: the marks, the dry streaks of cum at her legs, sweat glistening across her skin. Your mental checklist is filling up by the minute. 

“To be fair,” and it’s a realization to be made: “She did ask for this.” 

“Yes," Concurs Yunjin. "Yes she did.” 

–

Let’s summarize it like this: post-grad life is absolutely no joke. 

Your realization of this has been deeply humbling. 

And you’re reminded, again - from one of your friends who’s on the same boat as you: taking things day by day is always the way to go, don’t ever forget that. 

It sounds easier said than done. 

The lovely chime of the lock popping out from its hole plays a nice tune of pomp and circumstance, your humble abode of trinkets and gadgets and items greeting you a ‘welcome home!’ after a long day of work. It’s worth noting: you’re not actually working - not yet, but the job search in the pool has been quite dry. 

You sigh, get your shoes off at the doorstep, and toss your jacket on the nearby chair you lay your eyes on. 

When you finally hobble over to the couch, Yunjin appears right on cue; half hair up, half down, fresh out of the shower and in one of your shirts. You know her schedule by heart: the day was Thursday, which meant that she was out for a pickleball run with Somi and Giselle who convinced her to give the sport a try. She had some prior experience with tennis, so most of the skills easily transferred over. Talk about being multi-talented. 

“Hey,” she greets, tapping your thigh as a signal to give her some space on the seat. “Long day today? 

“Yeah,” you say, rubbing the sleepiness off your face and graze your thumb on the top of Yunjin’s thigh. “Nothing much to report- oh. I managed to get a callback from that one place I told you about last week.” 

“The start up Sian’s working in? Any good news?” Her voice lights up in excitement, brows elevated and head at an angle like a golden retriever. “I thought that place was only fifth in your options.” 

“It was, but figured that I’d work backwards on the list from bottom to top.” 

Yunjin smirks, nails to your knuckles, tic bouncing off her tongue, agreeing. “What an innovator.” 

“A different angle,” you laugh, “Worth giving it a try.” 

“We all have to start somewhere,” she tells you, voice light-hearted and calming. “Besides, life isn’t a linear graph that one follows. Everybody has their ups and downs they don’t want to admit.” 

She does have a point, so you nod. 

“Don’t be discouraged if there’s no results right away,” she adds on, lifting her hand up for you to momentarily give you a handshake as if she was your brother or something, curling your fingers with hers before ending it off with the pull down, gently slapping your cheek to force a smile out of you. Yunjin’s got all the remedies you can ask to boost your mood up, no point arguing otherwise. “You also said that you didn’t like the one other place second on your list.” 

“That cafe would be nice. Can finally cross off how to make the perfect matcha drink, too,” you reply, sitting up and sliding your arm across her waist, bringing her closer. 

“Mhm,” she hums, smiling the more she leans into your touch. If there was anything that you know very well to do: is how easily it is for her to let these things slide - more so like you can literally sweep her off her feet and suck the life out of her, without having the guilt lingering whatsoever. She’s so agonizingly pretty in your eyes and the fact she can say some of the coolest things in her perspective about life because she realizes that it cuts both ways. You could listen to her talk smart all day, until she plays into the dirty ditz where it gets closer to one familiar end far faster than you would like to admit. “I’ll say this compliment, then: you already have the best cup of coffee in town,” Yunjin says, a smirk with a chin lifted up and your tongue pressing the inner side of your lip. Her gaze goes hazy, and the half-lidded eyes coming from you really sends the message either way. “I actually like the whole package you’re selling. It’s sweet.” 

“You think of me as sweet? I guess so too.”

“That’s not the only thing sweet about you,” says Yunjin, palming your crotch and scratches the fabric, her breath at your teeth. “You’re dangerous.”

“Jen, what are you trying,” you chuckle, slow and low; the tone like you’re wanting to find something without putting too much force into suspicion. “Need I remind you that you were almost late to practice earlier?” 

As Yunjin bites her lip at the lean in, only to be interrupted by the same chime at the door. A second later, the sound gets replaced by another girl’s huff, keys jangling and boots clattering on the floor before making their way further into the apartment. Both of you look towards her direction out of curiosity. 

“Back already, Zuha?” Yunjin asks, leaning out more to the point she’s almost perpendicular to the seat of the couch, “How’d the hair appointment go?” 

“Good!” Kazuha beams, shrugging off her handbag and straightening her denim jacket outshined by her new color of hair - she mentioned it in the group chat between you three with a picture of her head wrapped up in tinfoil, so the input paid off. “Thought it would take longer, but I really like this shade much more than the blonde I had a year ago.” 

“Oh god,” you breathe, “I can’t stress how much I hated the blonde shade back then.” 

Kazuha’s brows crinkle, lips inward. She doesn’t want to admit it herself, but she did say her blonde hair wasn’t the right choice. “Dickhead. I thought I told you to take that opinion outside.” 

“I’m not going to apologize for saying what’s right.” 

“Guess I don’t have to ask you what you think about my hair and go directly to Yunjin instead.” 

“Ash blonde is more of your style, Kazuha,” you admit, Yunjin also agreeing with a little nod of her own. “If you were to ask me, I’d prefer this one over the blonde you had from last year.” 

“He does have a valid reason,” Yunjin adds, palm to your chest when she stands up from the couch with a water bottle in her hand from the table. Tosses it towards Kazuha who catches it without an issue. “You staying in or stopping by tonight?” 

Kazuha chugs half the bottle down, smacks her lips soon after. “Got an hour to chill, told Saku and Chaewon we’re eating out tonight. Since Sakura’s boytoy leaves tomorrow to-” 

“Study abroad,” you input, “I remember she was talking to me about him a few weeks ago.” 

“So no more dick for me or her,” Kazuha says. 

“You’re serious,” you say back. “Dude.” 

Kazuha twists her face, hands wrapped tighter around the plastic. “Dude. It is serious. A total loss for the home team.” 

“He wasn’t even your boyfriend to begin with.” Yunjin butts in, almost ad-libbed. 

“That’s what makes it fun!” 

“This girl can’t be helped,” Yunjin, shifting her attention to the cutting board of chicken and vegetables. “Sucks for her to be put out of commission all because she can’t get her pussy filled up this weekend.” 

“I heard that, bitch.” Kazuha yells deep in the hallway. “Why don’t you tell Chaewon while you’re at it too with her boyfriend.” 

You laugh at the annoyance Kazuha has in her voice. Yunjin rolls her eyes and wheels around in the kitchen. The pair part ways into doing their own activities around the place and that’s really the end of that. There’s a sense of comfort you find yourself in within these walls. When the world outside you doesn’t swing the way you want it to, it’s always nice to lay back and relax - save the problems of today to tomorrow. You lace your fingers together, put them over your waist and cross your ankles up to the armrest, closing your eyes.

“I’ll be here,” you’re saying aloud, a usual announcement during these hours: “Wake me up when the food’s ready, or if Kazuha leaves, whichever happens to come first.” 

–

Among the never ending loop of emails, interviews, and outings at different food spots to brush up the resume, you’re getting sick and tired of the daily activities as a whole. You’re doubtful, like a running inside joke you’re not in on. 

You tell Yunjin about the struggles, to which she tells you: “there’s no such thing as mistakes in a plan that’s meant for you, babe.” God bless her, the literary ability this woman has reminds you again as to why she wanted to be an english teacher or writer. Hell, philosophy might’ve been her forte, but it’s another debate topic to save for later. 

Kazuha’s outlook is a bit more abrasive; more real and a little less innocent, doesn’t mince her words at all. “Look, I know we give much shit between us at times,” she blurts out on a random afternoon, “but I think those people who do the hiring don’t know what you’re capable of yet, and it angers me about them not caring about you.” 

“Didn’t think you’d have the heart to say that to my face.” 

Kazuha squints, confused. Yunjin looks up from her book, eavesdropping. 

“If we’re being honest,” Kazuha continues with a wave of her hand. “this is basically like you getting me through college apps back in senior year, me having the breakdowns on a nightly basis because you shat on my essays being complete trash-” 

“Somewhat relevant, yes. Still isn’t as close to what I feel.” 

Ever since graduation (and even before then), the pair have gotten used to each other in no time flat. Yunjin eventually had to end the lease on her apartment at the beginning of summer and it was a no brainer when you popped the question of moving in. They both have similar tastes, similar styles - the list goes on and on. But hey: two of the hottest girls on campus are living with you and every time someone brings it up you just give them a shrug. 

(The non-verbal message presents itself like it’s no big deal. 

Or one quiet way of answering: ‘fuck you, stay out of my business’.)

Yujin closes her book and treats herself to the cup of tea on the table. “It’s pretty much a similar experience across the board, no need to overcomplicate it.” 

You check your phone with the same kind of energy in receiving a text. Quick skim here, no luck. “Whoopty-fucking-do, still no message back from Minnie about the software position.” 

“No stress babe, it’s Friday night after all.” 

“I’d text her personally to see if there’s any hold up, rush the process a bit.” Kazuha suggests. 

You pull your lip. “I could, but what do you want me to do? It’s not my fault that the job market and economy as a whole is in shambles, toying with the idea of teasing me like it’s some ‘will they, won’t they’ kind of situation. But seriously-” and here your hands are in your face in a small sign of frustration, “it’s a bit discouraging on the latter when I could be spending my time on-” 

“Pressure isn’t a good look on you,” Kazuha tuts, snorting. She reclines back on the seat, sliding her heels on the floor, “I’m sure someone will swoop you on their ship sooner or later. The strategy here is just sit and wait, taking into account the number of places you dropped by today and they can’t look at the CV the moment you hand it to them. Ever heard the saying: “Rome wasn’t built in a day?” 

“Classic for the kids.” Yunjin recites, hands bracing her chin. “Patience is always the everlasting virtue.” 

“Both of you are dead last in lecturing me about practicing a positive mindset.” 

Here they laugh in midst of deliberation. Because Yunjin’s shaking her head while Kazuha’s turning her attention away to something that isn’t on you. The heat starts to rise on your face in embarrassment. Yunjin’s gaze lowers on Kazuha as she crosses her arms, fingers tapping along the opposite limb, sharing the same look before she looks over to you once again. Silence fills the table for a moment until Kazuha’s phone vibrates on the table, prompting her to swipe it off the surface and check the notifications in mere milliseconds. 

Kazuha’s eyes briskly shimmers from the screen, face lighting up once she’s finished reading. “Oh shit,” she breathes. “I forgot I was going out with Sakura tonight.” 

“Where to this time?” 

“Eunchae’s,” she answers, briskly standing up and typing her life away. “Just a quick outing, doughnut run, nothing too big. Yunjin, you still coming?” 

“Can’t.” Yunjin yawns. “Tired and plus I had a movie date planned with this one,” she says with a head bob towards you. 

“Ew- gross,” Kazuha mutters. You look at her dumbfounded while Yunjin smirks. “Whatever, enjoy your impromptu movie date.” 

“Prayers up for the dick that’s about to cross paths with you,” you remark over your shoulder. “Whoever’s the lucky one to bend you over tonight, I’ll drink to that too.” 

Kazuha smacks your head then walks away. “I’ll take that same fucking bottle when I come back and smash it over your head.” 

“Ouch.” Yunjin sighs, putting on her glasses and stretching. “I’ve been telling you it’s a lost cause for her.” 

“Hey. That’s her problem, not mine.” 

–

Kazuha’s problems, whether you like it or not, usually end up becoming yours. 

Not that it’s her fault or anything. The girl just spills out one word and it turns into a never ending ramble of sentences. 

Fifteen minutes have passed since dinner, for the ones who are curious - fifteen minutes of valuable time lost in Kazuha’s eyes because she can’t seem to get her life together when it comes to proper efficiency. You and Yunjin are bundled up on the couch, watching some dating series on netflix that’s been all the rage across social media. The cast upon preliminary assessment are all attractive - some with a stronger bias than others, but you deduced Yunjin’s opinion was much more important than what’s happening on screen. 

Self-insertion is a matter of conceptual perspective, is what she’s trying to tell you. 

“All I’m saying is-” she groans after your pitiful laugh, “we put ourselves in that scenario, and I guarantee the ratings would go up.” 

“Pretty high pedestal you’re putting me there,” you comment. 

Yunjin slaps your shoulder and gawks at you, playfully offended. “Oh please, if you didn’t take me to paradise, how else would you make your case compared to the other good looking guys?” 

“Don’t need to, since I’ve already got you.” 

She coos at the remark, laughing at you playing it off in the coolest way imaginable. It’s cringy, but who the fuck cares? The fact that she agrees with the statement only solidifies the pull you have on her. A win-win situation. 

“What about Kazuha?” Yunjin follows up shortly after. “I think she’d be a great fit there.” 

“If I were one of the guys on that show and she was one of the contestants, I’d try everything to date her in a heartbeat,” you tell her. 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

“Really what?” Kazuha walks in a second after your reply, with a zip-up to her frame and peeping over to see what was on the screen. “I heard my name down the hallway.” 

“Oh nothing, Zu,” answers Yunjin, waving her hand to shoo her off. “We were just saying that you’d be a great addition to the dating show cast. I can’t lie, some of the guys in this are super hot.” 

“Ahem,” you cough. 

“Shut up,” Yunjin says. “You were literally just telling me that you’d date Kazuha if you had the chance.” 

“Never in a million years,” you hear Kazuha say, disgusted. “That can of worms stays shut for a reason.” 

“A fun topic to talk about,” you’re laughing out loud again, shaking your head. Kazuha squints her eyes and her lips are spread wide in annoyance. A common expression she does whenever she can’t comprehend the bullshit coming out of your mouth at times - for most occasions is all sarcasm and nothing more. “You may not like it, but who’s living with who here, hm?” 

“I’ll kick your ass again if I have to,” Kazuha chuckles - a tilt of her head to keep it subtle, but you know well she intends that. 

you say

“Can’t beat my ass if you haven’t gone out yet,” you retort, pursing your lips. Kazuha glances at the clock and realizes what time it was, cursing under her breath. She shoves a hand in her pocket and bolts for the door, throwing up a peace sign to you and Yunjin, letting you both know she’s finally on her way out. 

“Bye Zuha, have fun!” Yunjin yells in a light tone.

“Don’t burn the place down until I get back, but the noise complaints are fine,” Kazuha says, slotting herself through the door the next second, into the cold. 

–

“That girl with the dark blonde hair looks like Kazuha,” Yunjin tells you, pointing at the screen. She’s right. The one on the show appears to be at the right height, similar body build, not to mention the abs highlighted from her swimsuit. “I’m telling you, it’s a carbon copy.” 

It’s been a little over an hour since Kazuha left, maybe more - you haven’t been keeping track, really. The episodes and runtimes are starting to mesh together to the point where Yunjin’s starting to get other ideas with that mischievous hand of hers, working at your shorts. 

“She’s hella popular with the others - so you might be right, considering Kazuha’s the mix of an extroverted introvert,” you say, paying no attention to the slip of Yunjin’s hand into your boxers, fingers snaking the length. She can feel you getting hard. 

You’re on the same wavelength as Yunjin: hand trailing up her thigh, thumb and index pinching the waistband of her panties beneath the blanket before curling your fingers across the fabric, hearing a hitched breath. 

“There’s no way they don’t hook up while recording, right? Like- the fuckable scales are off the charts,” she assesses, squirming her hips to the fingers circling over her clothed clit. She cocks her head as you pull your lips inward, trying to see the transmitting message in her eyes. 

You press a little further in at the opening, feel the dampness spread across. Oh yeah, she’s soaking them. 

“We wouldn’t know, per se, since the whole point of inferno is all about exclusivity. Getting to know the person without any outside distractions, that kind of thing,” you conclude. You’re paying more attention to your hand than the show. 

“Them having sex on camera would be so normal,” Yunjin says, a word slips out but her mouth forms to something else when you slip a finger inside without a warning. “So normal.”

“You’d be right.” 

“Definitely,” she breathes and it’s heavy. This segment has been slowly building in the background; the part where few words are said and relied more on the action: Yunjin’s thumb presses down on the head of your cock and grips around it, languidly stroking; your breathing stops for a moment, bobbing the air down your throat, coming up with a proper response, ending with nothing. You can feel your lower body tense and relax with the ticks of the clock, an indicator for what’s about to happen if you keep this up. You don’t fight it - nor want to, since you’re both well aware that the teasing is a better way to eat up the time with your bodies rather than everything else. 

It’s only natural to do things like these. You’d always make time for being horny. 

Before you know it, your shorts are on the floor. The same could be said with her panties, tossed away to a corner in the room for you to ask yourself “well how the fuck did that get there?” later when the damage has been done. Her shirt’s being held up by her teeth and you’re taking all the sights of her upper half uncovered past her shirt. Nothing but porcelain skin and amber nipples waiting to be marked up and bitten. Your hips get put in place and your mouth is taken over by Yunjin’s, feeling the glide of her folds across your cock and the slickness of her cunt on your fingers, smearing her thigh. 

Her breath is warm, just like her face; mouth hung open when she settles her pussy on your shaft. She finds joy in the loose and unraveling expressions: all wide-eyed and nowhere else to go. Your head falls back once the grip registers in the nerves. 

All in the rise and fall of her hips. She’s gyrating them as a test like it’s a given - which it is. She loves it when you’re raring to go, dicking her hips down or fucking herself on your cock. It’s all the same. 

“Babe,” she whispers into your ear. The blanket uncovering your lower halves, barren skin now out to the open air. “I want it.” 

Fuck, she could meet you halfway with the wetness of her pussy and already be there. You hold her hips and waist steady and she begins to ride. 

–

Here is where the story - or rather, the ordeal - truly unravels. As Anakin Skywalker famously declares on the glowing screen before the darkened room: ‘This is where the fun begins.’

You’re woken up to the incessant buzzing of your phone on the nightstand, blinded by the glare of the television, drowsy as fuck, and slightly sweating. You also don’t even bother looking at the time because your lock screen is basically a flashbang of your selfie with Yunjin even with the caller ID blurring it. It’s from an unknown number (it isn’t but you can barely see as it is) and even if you’re entertaining the idea of not answering it, you do anyway. 

“Hello?” Your voice graveled and deep, clearly tired. “Who is this?” 

“Oh, you’re Yunjin’s boyfriend, right?” The girl on the other end asks. Her voice is surprisingly masculine. You would’ve mistaken her for a guy in that case. The line goes quiet for a few seconds, afraid that she possibly called the wrong number. “You sound like Yunjin’s boyfriend. By the way, it’s Eunchae.” 

Crap, you remember that Kazuha was with her for tonight’s activities. Wondering what the hell happened this time for her to call instead of Sakura as the usual standby. 

“We have a situation here,” she continues, mouth ticked with a hint of annoyance. “Kazuha’s hammered and Sakura’s getting her business on with some guy out in the alleyway. Told me to call you if she didn’t come back in five minutes. And it’s been more than five minutes.” 

“Shit, I didn’t think it’d be that serious.” 

“The fuck were you expecting?” 

“I dunno- just a simple doughnut dine and dash? Neither of them told me about a party.” 

“That’s because the two of them tagged along with the guy they met there and it’s been downhill ever since. I wanna go home.” 

Can’t help but feel bad for Eunchae, since you were in her shoes before. 

“Mind hurrying it up a bit? I can hear Sakura’s moaning behind me and it’s looking like she won’t be going home tonight.” 

You scratch the back of your head, raking off the sleepiness before rubbing your eyes. “Alright, be there in a few. Where do you want to meet?” 

“I’ll send my location, my house isn’t far from here.” 

–

In a slight reiteration, you’ve become used to Kazuha’s antics. 

Kazuha brings in Sakura and her plus one late at night, you know how that goes; Kazuha can’t decide which top goes well with her loose pants for the grocery run; Kazuha procrastinates on some of the chores around the apartment and leaves you alone to pick up her slack. She smacks your ass for fun and runs away into her room - goes to show the years of friendship you have between you two. When you’re up late studying for midterms or finals, the noise cancelling headphones serve well to block out the sounds of Kazuha touching herself -or, the fact that you’re putting her pile of laundry on her bed and it’s riddled with the assortment of playboy magazines, dirty clothes, and the vibrator (which you don’t question) next to it. She’s an agent of chaos. A perfect anthesis to your very livelihood. 

It’s certainly no exception when you mentally add alcohol into the mix. 

“Do I want to know how she ended up like this?” You ask Eunchae upon arriving, kneeling down to a slumped Kazuha against the brickwall on the sidewalk - hand to the back of her head to get a better look of her drunk gaze: one eye open and giggling like an idiot, her words slurring. 

“She literally grabbed the first beer handed to her when we got here,” Eunchae replies, showing you a picture of the moments before disaster. “I thought she was a heavy weight.” 

“Depends on what they were passing out in that party.” You move Kazuha’s head around to ensure nothing happened to her. So far: face blushed with pink, a lazy eye, messy hair and sweaty skin. But most importantly: no marks. “Did Saki tell you to stick with her while at the party?” 

“Yes, she did.” 

“Well that’s the good news,” you’re saying to yourself. Kazuha might be a pain in your ass, but she is your longtime friend, after all. Like anyone else, you’d go the extra mile to keep an eye out for her. 

You then glance back at Eunchae, her shadow casted by the glare of the overhanging streetlight, arms crossed with the light tap of her foot. Her thumb subconsciously swipes the phone screen as you both look at Kazuha when she snorts, playfully hitting your arm. 

“She’ll be fine,” you softly say, hoisting Kazuha’s arms over your shoulders and adjusting her on your back. “Given the fact that Sakura’s getting her fuck-fix for the weekend, I’ll leave that be.” 

“Mhm, girl’s a piece of work,” Eunchae concurs, lashes fluttering in the dim lighting, air to the left side of her cheek. “And here I thought we were getting our box and heading back home but-” she then motions a hand to Kazuha murmuring behind you. “-this shit unfolded and, yeah.” 

“The regular stuff,” you admit, because it really is. You twitch your head the opposite way from the house party. “My car’s this way, I’ll drop you off on the way back.” 

–

(Dealing with a drunk Kazuha in the car was simple math: 

Make sure she’s comfy, for one. Recline the seat all the way back since her feet will most likely end up on the dashboard for another. And almost beating every red light at the intersections so that she doesn’t get cranky with all the stops and turns for the third note. 

A long list and every contingency written in the book: you know her that well.) 

–

3:00 in the morning is usually classified as ‘primetime hours’ for Kazuha. 

Except for tonight. 

You’re running through the standard procedure: get out the car, walk up the stairs, hook a right, second door past the balcony. 

Left shoulder, right shoulder, right foot up, then left; fix Kazuha’s weight on your backside so you don’t throw your back out early, lean a little too forward she’ll fall right off, look back when she’s secure. 

For a girl like her to be 5’7” and 105 pounds, it doesn’t add everything up in your head. She’s humming a song - the lyrics incoherent, tone consistent - then all of a sudden she yelps in surprise. Keep her quiet - a fifth noise complaint from the neighbors in the span of three days was not on the agenda for this week. 

She smacks your head, half awake. “Hey, how did I get home? Put me down.” Kazuha pushes herself off, landing on her feet with a stumble, prompting you to hover your hand to her waist so that she doesn’t lose balance. It’s 3 in the fucking morning and Kazuha’s drunk out of her goddamn mind. “Wait, when did you get here?” 

“I drove us,” you tell her, moving her arm over your shoulder and walking her towards the door. “Looks like you had fun tonight.” 

“I did,” Kazuha hiccups, blinking slowly. “Super fun time.” Her gaze freezes. You can’t tell if she’s grumpy or plain tired (trick question: it’s the second answer); she then closes her eyes with that neat, flat eye smile of hers to where you see the slightest dimple on her face. You could imagine the stars shimmering over her head. Kazuha has so many spirit animals that you could pair her up with, but if you had to choose one- 

“Ehe-” she giggles, staggering her right foot before readjusting her balance, doing the same laugh again. 

(She would definitely be a samoyed.)

So you stifle a laugh and close your mouth, opening the door. 

You’re leading the way back into the apartment while Kazuha tries to walk on her own. She fails. Her forearm bracing the doorway while you shift your body back around out of concern. Her body lurches forward like she just went twelve rounds in a boxing ring, fatigued. She straightens herself up with a hand on top of her head, chin tilted higher when she leans forward, about to fall. Like any other caring friend would do in this situation: you catch her. 

“Easy, easy.” You hold yourself steady, accepting the weight. Or- when you’re stumbling too and shuffle your feet for proper placement. “You said you didn’t drink that much, tell me the truth.” 

Kazuha hums, mindlessly bobbing her head in the form of a yes. 

Her gaze is sleepy. Both of your hands are at her shoulders, keeping her upright. Kazuha’s zip-up slips off her shoulder, exposing her collarbone, covering the tubetop she was wearing with a set of underwear you haven’t seen before. Probably new, you assume. “Kazuha, stand up straight for me, please?” 

“Mmkay,” she slurs. 

“Think you can walk back to your room by yourself?” 

“Nope.” Kazuha beams with her head to the left. 

You sigh. Pat the side of her face to wake her up a bit. “Guess you can’t be helped.” A hand’s extended like a peace offering. “C’mere, I’ll take you there right now.” 

“If you take good care, I’ll let you fuck me.” 

Oh, hell no- 

You weren’t prepared for this kind of Kazuha at all. There was no plan. Not even a proper response in your head could cover for it. 

Kazuha being drunk was always the marker for attention. Put her with the right people (like Sakura, Chaewon, even fucking Yunjin), and it’s guaranteed to be a never ending stream of laughs throughout the day and into the night. Not one second goes by when you’re out with friends to look over the shoulder and see the most questionable acts coming from her that twists the creases across your face and forces you to bear no mind to what’s happening behind you; stay focused now, ask questions later. When you do bring up the topic, it gets brushed over and eventually ignored. You have so many ‘why’s’ as it is, but you find it best to save it for the morning. 

“Kazuha, you’re clapped. There’s no way you just asked me to-” 

“But I’ll be good for you. C’mon, don’t you think I should repay you in some way?” 

“You getting sleep right now will be good for me. Now let’s go, I’m tired as it is-” 

Her arms wrap around your shoulder and middle lazily. You can’t afford to handle another minute of this nonsense and just get your ass back to bed. That alone should be a right in itself, but this girl won’t fucking let go. 

Next thing you know, her lips graze the bottom of your neck before resting on your collarbone. Your name is heard into your shirt, and you huff in annoyance. Plus, your voices could be a little louder than usual since Yunjin’s a heavy sleeper. At this point, you’ve had enough: so you slip your fingers into Kazuha’s hair and yank her head back to see her face wince at the sudden pain. There’s no shame when you see her biting her lip, half-lidded eyes gazing with no care of the lust behind them. “Just help me to my room, I promise not to give you trouble. I owe you. Need to thank,” she mumbles, licking her lips. “I’ll be a good girl.” 

“Christ- Kazuha, we’re not doing this.” But talking to her while she’s intoxicated isn’t going to do you any good. 

Now you carry on, dragging her closer to the room, ignoring the assault of mindless kisses she’s placing all over your neck. She ups the ante when her hand palms your sweats, trying to play it off in standing upright. 

“Jesus- Kazuha,” you angrily swear, similar to all the times she pissed you off.

“What? You don’t like that?” Kazuha asks, lips parted when she rests her fingers at your crotch. 

“Fucks sake, no.” 

“Aw come onnnn,’ she whines, trilling the last bit of the words. “Yunjin always has her fun, why can’t I?” 

“Because I said no.” 

“You won’t even let me suck you off? What if I just wanna stay here and sit so I can do that?” 

You can’t stand her being like this. 

“I always hear you and Yunjin getting it on in your room.” She leans on the wall next to the open door, curling her hand around your arm while the other doesn’t move. “How would it feel if I called you daddy again for once?” 

The scrunch in your nose shuts down the thought immediately. You’re sensible enough to not entertain the idea, despite how tempting it is. No. You know better. You know damn well what that shit does to you even if it slapped you in the face. No one casually spills the word ‘daddy’ like it’s nothing and expect no reaction. Her mind’s swimming in alcohol. You’re starting to wonder what the hell she drank at that party. 

“Again- God. Zuha.” You flicker your eyes into the void of the hallway. The nickname only comes up at times where she’s really getting on your nerves. “For the last time, you are getting your ass to bed and we’ll talk about it in the morning.” Kazuha winces at the sharp tone, realizing she’s overstepped her bounds. Bless the last bits of common sense she has left; you don’t know where you’d be if she didn’t use her brain cells for something else that required her to think. 

“Ugh, fine,” she tells you, and the tamped down ego in your head is satisfied in victory, stepping into her room. You hold her at the arms and help slip out of her jacket, tossing it on her chair as she does her part in sitting on the bed, waiting for you to lie her down. “I was hoping that you could fuck me.” 

“In your dreams,” you rebut firmly. 

Right before you walk away, Kazuha grabs your wrist. A few wisps of her hair fall over her forehead. “Wait,” she says, and that should’ve been the red flag to swipe your hand away from the imposing threat - a dangerous risk you’re not willing to take. You clench your teeth and swallow hard, with the slightest bit of pull in your arm. “At least-” 

You actually don’t move forward, but backward. 

“At least touch me, just this once.” Before you know what she’s doing, it’s already too late. Her hand guides yours to her thigh, working the curve of your thumb and index up her waist. Part of you is impressed at the amount of work she put in maintaining a chiseled frame, the muscle very much present the more your fingers press down on the skin. “For a little bit.” 

(Should’ve left the room when you had the chance.) 

Your eyes continue to gaze and drift all over Kazuha’s body, hand to her chest with the thumb curling below her breast. Her humming rumbles low, safe. It hadn’t been that long since she was out in the cold, but she’s surprisingly warm. 

She makes sure every single part of your hand feels it, flipping it over to the knuckles past her hips, fingertips making contact to the patterned lace of her panties - the fabric clearly damp when she starts to shift her hips at your touch. It’s all gone wrong - a mess, one really fucked up mess - her lower half continues to move with both of her legs pressing your hand in, holding you tight at her sensitive clit, the huffs rising and falling along with her chest the more she used your fingers to get herself off. 

Drunk Kazuha was easy to deal with. Sleepy drunk Kazuha was a cakewalk in caring for. But never in your years of knowing her where she would be like this. Let alone the fact you’re in a relationship with her best friend and you’re staring further and further away from the door towards freedom. 

The reality check will be cashed in once it’s all over.  

You say her name, which spills out in a stutter; your state of mind incomprehensible to the stacked hands working the heat and slick between Kazuha’s legs, head unable to stay still and lolling side to side, elbows digging into the mattress. 

How does she not feel embarrassed with what she’s doing? Sarcasm applied: how are you not ashamed of this? 

It hits you right then and there: in the retracted hand of yours, eliciting another small tantrum of Kazuha kicking and waving her arms like a kid. You take a second to pause, remember how you got here in the first place and why, clouded with anger and confusion, hindering a sizable amount of time to reflect. Soon, you found it best to retreat from the situation and into the kitchen, grab a glass of water and wash your hands to calm yourself. 

(Even as your thumb grazes the glass in a period of contemplating, the whole ordeal can't be swallowed down that easily, as much as you want it to. Not when you’re achingly hard in your sweatpants and that serves a few more strings of curses out your mouth.) 

One last thing that you could do before heading back to your room was set the small bottle of aspirin at the side of her bed for when she wakes up. Maybe convince her to use that body pillow of hers to mimic the warmth; you nod your head at the thought, it could work and it should. It’s been a few minutes since her mini breakdown and you assume that she’d be asleep by now. 

You couldn’t wait until the morning to tease her about being a horny drunk - worry about being her personal punching bag later. 

Apparently the teasing would have to wait. Because your personal ideal about Kazuha was about to be shifted again. 

The last thing you would’ve expected was for her to be sound asleep. Instead, she’s got her tube top up to her upper chest, one delicate hand furiously rubbing sloppy circles into her clit, the other gripping into the mattress as she’s on her knees, body pillow between her legs, grinding into the cushions. Her pants are at the foot of the bed, panties loosely around her right ankle. She’s an insufferable cocktease. 

It’s something straight out of your wet dreams, from a time when everything revolved around Kazuha. You’re sucked into an inescapable vacuum of thoughts you’d never think of again (with things like those, it’s all a lie, they always are). You can’t stop peering through the crack in the door, opening it wider to watch Kazuha grab a handful of her tit and ride her own hand. She’s too into it to pay attention to you, and you’re fighting every urge in the fingers sliding down your thigh, unable to move. 

She only seemed to have one thing on her lips, the only thing plaguing her intoxicated mind. The tube top at her pits and the gush of her cunt soaking up the last pillowcase, but you’re seeing it clear as day. 

You can’t help but think how good your name sounds on her lips. 

Kazuha then gropes both of her tits, pinching both buds of her nipples to keep her from stopping, finally figuring out that she can continue without the support, falling back on the bed, unfolding her legs like butterfly wings to reveal how wet she was. The small webbing of her slick coating her index and middle fingers, leaving more spots on the bed sheets beneath her. 

There’s a deathly, fucked up part of you in the back of your mind: that wants to give in to the temptation. Oh, you could give Kazuha the same treatment as Yunjin when you have her in a blithering wreck, fucking her full as she creams on your cock, grab her by the hair and press her to the closest thing nearby to reatalite on the slightly abusive attitude. Get your tongue all over her cunt like it’s the last meal you’d ever have on your knees and have her cumming and hands full of every single part of her body until she’s had enough (which will most likely be never in this case). The need for more is an absolute certainty, a greater purpose. You'll consciously be happier in being rough, be a pain in her ass (quite literally, sooner than you think), and completely forget about the resistance or consequences.

You’re holding yourself back for now, placing the water and two tablets of aspirin on the dresser, lean your shoulder to the door frame - inhaling and exhaling quietly to not make her realize you were still in the room. 

She doesn’t stop her fingers from dipping inside her leaking slit, wagging it across her folds with every passing shudder of her breathing, sinking it back in soon two digits at a time. Debauched, impure, sinful; you could go through the list of your lexicon to describe this present moment and still won’t give an explanation as to why you can’t look away. You watch as her eyes wander, flickering when she looks down and plop her head back on the pillow when the finger curl rubs at a sensitive spot.

And it’s almost instinctual, close to second nature: your hand tugging your dick out, paying close attention to how the slenderness of her hand widely spreading her pussy folds. How Kazuha wished her own hand was a dildo or a vibrator or your cock - they won’t stretch in the way she imagines it. 

The third finger she inserted was a good try, you’ll give her that. You can’t help but be enamored. 

Suddenly, she’s switching out names. First, your name and then Yunjin’s. That’s a new piece of information you’ll save for later. Ignoring the question of how weird because this was already fucking insane as it is; you’re slowly pumping your shaft in time with her upward thrusts, grip your shaft to mimic the pressure and emulate how the skin would be coated in her soaking wetness, listening closely to the squelching getting louder and louder it seems. 

Kazuha’s legs are flush against the mattress, as far as she could get them. She’s flexible enough to do it, opening up more room for her other hand to get a fill of her desperate cunt. A sweet view. You’re lucky to have witnessed it in real time. 

Shit, you’re silently cursing to yourself. Wishing that you would’ve abstained in committing such a wicked act. 

But you keep pumping, delusion plaguing your mind. You’re lost in the sights, the sounds, her face wobbling to more rapturous, tucking her hand and tilting her hips like those other guys have done to her, the heat tugging them tightly - God, she doesn’t let up with the lovely moaning. 

“Mmm, yes, right there-” 

Seeing Kazuha like this feels undeserved. 

“Please, please-” 

“What is it. Kazuha? Want some help there?” You ask mindlessly, slipping out of your sweats some more to open up your legs. 

And when she says your name again: “I need you here with me.” 

“I’m not far,” you answer, gaze crestfallen and wistful. 

You lower your guard when the rush of euphoria begins to spread within. The sensation of jerking yourself had the capacity to wear you out just how you wanted. Because of this, when you eventually look back up, you can see the glint of watered eyes watch across from you - in between the valley of her breasts, toned legs and reddened knees. “Look at you, so handsome,” she says, hand circling her clit faster. Harder. Fingers increasing in pace to match your strokes rather than the other way around. 

“Fuck, you look so good-” you grunt with buckling knees. A familiar, aching tension in your stomach, the pin rising to the peak in your balls. The wonders of having a pretty best friend. 

“Yeah?” she murmurs. “Like this? My pussy out wide open for you? Why don’t you walk back here and plug it up?” 

“No need. You’re doing good, so fucking good. I’ll keep myself here- holy shit.” 

“Would feel-” Kazuha wheezes, a relieving proposition. “Even better, with you.” She says it like it’s some forbidden truth. 

In an alternate reality, she’d be right. 

“Think so?” Jesus fucking christ, you’ve lost it. In the current affair, this is all that mattered. “You’d prefer my dick to split your guts up instead of your fingers?” 

“God, yes.” 

“Want me to take care of that pretty little cunt of yours?” 

Kazuha sighs once more, confirming the question for you. It didn’t take much to work her up in general; if you didn’t have the remaining ounces of common sense, you could’ve dropped your pants right at the door and get even more dirty with the arousal pouring relentlessly out of her stuffed hole. It wouldn’t be a bad idea right? Cleaning up her mess with your hands, your mouth, gurgle down the endless stream of her pussy where there’d be multiple threads dripping down her legs. Fucking hell, you really could if you wanted to. 

Though you don’t move a single muscle besides your hand. 

“C’mon, more. Just a little more,” she groans, breath hitching every other second. You can feel the air get tighter, the vibrations in your throat tremoring along with every tense fiber of muscle. Coming down to a fine point, overtaking you. 

You’re just as shameless as her. 

The piercing wail of your name off her lips sounds broken, eyes clenched shut when you finally fall off that peak. You cum all over your fingers, spurting and smearing across the skin - fuck, it comes in a panic when some of it spills on the hardwood, but you could care less since it blends in well with the color. How you managed to remain standing from your high was a mystery, knees bending forward while the twitching continued to pass.

Kazuha tenses her body from the erratic movement of her chest, struggling to calm down from her orgasm. Through your sated, lidded eyes, you watch her frame relax, head falling over to the side, hand plopping over to the edge like someone shot a bullet through her on the spot. 

“Kazuha.” You huff, hoping for a response. “Kazuha?” 

Yep, she’s knocked out. 

You take a minute or two to return to your senses, looking back at Kazuha’s body to ensure she was fast asleep. Staring at the gentle shift of her arm cuddling the pillow she just rode on, you found it best to let her deal with the clean up later in the morning when she’s fully sobered up. 

A really big ‘if’ for later: her remembering everything she did from last night. You’re swearing that it doesn’t happen - hoping you don’t breathe a word of what you’ve seen or did. 

(It would be a huge problem on your hands, and an even worse one if it becomes hers.) 

Fuck, she would be mortified. 

–

“You look like shit,” Yunjin tells you later that morning, chin perched up and eyes squinted. “Didn’t you and Kazuha come back together 30 minutes later?” 

“Something like that,” you sigh, giving up the effort in holding back your yawn. “Slow mornings are always harder than the actual day.” 

“Hangovers are never kind.” 

You shrug. “Some of us can handle it better than others.” 

Right on cue, you and Yunjin glance over to see a tired Kazuha sitting alone on one of the chairs near the kitchen. Her hoodie is up and both hands are on her face to hide the subtle cough. She looks like she could sleep for another eight hours after breakfast, and it most definitely could happen. The plate in front of her is cleaned off: holding the knife and fork, coated with syrup and clearly ran through. 

Yunjin gives you a look, probably along the lines of: ‘are you sure nothing bad happened to her?’ 

You purse your lips and open the fridge, with a cold water bottle now in your hand. 

From then on it’s a silent exchange: Yunjin walking over to Kazuha and caressing the back of her head, Kazuha looking and nodding to let her know she’s alright before going on with the rest of her unproductive day. 

As for your part: you slide the bottle over to her with two more tablets of aspirin for her to take. For insurance, you insist. She’s someone you know very well who can’t function properly unless there’s some sort of responsible figure who can facilitate and keep an eye on her condition. 

It isn’t like her to be awfully quiet at times, so you fill in that role of the opposite as needed. 

“How’s your head?” You ask, voice lowered that you don’t scare the poor girl. “Gotta say, I’m jealous you got better sleep than me for once.” 

Kazuha leans back on the chair with her eyes trained on you. The occasional beep of the smoke detector above goes on for a few seconds when you see the tip of her tongue peek out and runs it along her teeth, contemplating. 

“Better,” she says. Her first words of the day. A small win. “Thank you.” 

You nod in approval, poking her forehead for some fun. “Great. No going out for you today. Not until you’re back to normal. You know the rules.” 

The gentle clatter of the silverware along the plate compliments the soft scuffle of your feet along the floor. You’re not thinking too much about what happened last night, drawing up the conclusions that it was a one-time thing. Anything beyond that reason would bring in plausible deniability. 

But you carry on with the simple house chore with Kazuha unknowingly staring from behind: biting her lip. 

–

Ironic about the unproductive day, you do everything but that. 

Emails, papers, evaluations, your endless editing of the resume, the Spoitfy window with the classical music playlist, all of it eats up the time. With the occasional step out to grab some food or a cup of water - or maybe Yunjin piggybacking you as an attempt to get you away from the desk- 

“I know you big baby,” you wheeze, feeling Yunjin’s nose against the nape of your neck, “Just let me finish one more thing and then we can do something. Promise.” 

“You said that last time,” she groans, corralling her arms tighter on your shoulders, toes barely touching the floor, “Maybe I should change the password to your desktop so you don’t go to it first thing in the morning. It’s a dangerous addiction.” 

“It’s called a routine,” you rebuke. 

“I know your password,” argues Yunjin. 

“Might have to change it again.” 

She gets off when you settle back in the office chair, her arms still wrapped and pressing her lips on to your cheek, making you giggle at the sudden assault of touches. To her defense, they’re pretty effective - her way of swaying you to lose your concentration. You don’t think twice when she forces you to put down the phone before lunch or dinner, or when you’re out with friends and she thinks it would be a great idea to send you nudes knowing very well that it’s not meant to be seen publicly. Her hair starts to pool over your front, smelling like apple rose and aloe. “So you’re saying it’s not ‘huhyun108’? Are you serious?” And she’s got you all figured out - the many angles of pressure points to slowly give in towards. Picking and choosing her battles carefully, but you don’t go down from a fight that easily. 

“Gonna change it now, actually,” you say, fast tapping on the keyboard. “Find it best for you not to look.” 

Yunjin cackles as you’re pushing her face away, pulling the chair along with you. 

–

Yunjin doesn’t have to do too much: all it takes is one breath and a few sly words and she gets what she wants. 

She’s adamant with what’s hers: lipstick mark on your neck? That’s Yunjin. Her white scrunchie on deck at your wrist for when she can’t deal with her hair? Also Yunjin - supplying to the demand was always her kind of thing. 

It’s midweek, at the point in the day where things get stagnant and there isn’t anything of interest to note, the usual grace period where the thought of doing nothing is considered the best option. Yunjin keeps watching that same netflix series, dissatisfied with how the current season played out. To compensate: she rewatches the second season for the sixth time and her key point was the fact the two most popular contestants really hit it off, but never got together. 

That wasn’t the main concern, however. 

“She hasn’t been out of her room since yesterday,” Yunjin pouts, long legs stacked on top of yours and restraining. “I’m getting a little worried.” 

“I saw her go to the kitchen and back earlier,” you inform, tossing popcorn into your mouth. “She did have that pilates session around lunch. You know Zuha, and her cardio.” 

“That door’s been shut a little too long,” she mumbles, not entirely ruling out your observation. “I know that there’s the unspoken rule for privacy, but I’m genuinely curious what the girl’s been up to. She seems a bit-” 

“Closed off?” You fill in, completing the train of thought. “You may be right with that.” 

“Mmm,” Yunjin agrees. 

“Wait it out some more, then we’ll see what happens.” 

–

(You wonder a bit too much, and get caught off guard as a consequence. 

You haven’t moved from the couch, with Yunjin fast asleep at your side. The position so comfortable, you could honestly pass out here and wake up eons later - a tempting idea to entertain, and a plausible action to consider. 

Kazuha appears from the hallway, rubbing the tiredness off from her three hour nap. A bit bizarre to nap past 8 PM, but that’s her thing. Her shirt is so baggy that it covers some of her thighs, toes spread on the floor before she continues to make headway to the fridge. Hair frizzled in messy waves and moving gently in every step. 

So you initiate first, “Hey,” and you layer that with a lean back of the head of the couch so she can see you better in the dim light. “Everything good?” 

Kazuha twists her body towards your voice, gaze stoic and quiet, fingers twisting the bottle cap open and fiddling it around. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all.” 

“Good to know,” and your words come casual. Unbothered. As if you heard enough to carry on and leave her be, aware that she’s able to interact again. “Happy to hear your voice, like alive- or something.” 

“You sound worried,” says Kazuha, cringing. “Ew, don’t do that. It’s weird.” 

She doesn’t know you can hear her snort from the couch. 

“But you are okay, right?” You ask again. Kazuha’s backside twisting once more to face you, blinking carefully. Her expression shifts to something more misty, unclear. All she gives is a nod and hum. Doesn’t say anything after. 

At least she tells you that much.)

–

Okay, it’s probably bad that you’re keeping an eye on Kazuha - reserving a spot in your head to revisit that night over and over. Maybe it means something, or it doesn’t. 

It really, really shouldn’t. Like at all. But the recurring thought fills your mind at some point between the passing days. 

“I’m heading out now.” Kazuha says to you sweeping through the kitchen, bag in hand and behind Yunjin. “Won’t be back until later probably.” 

“Where are you headed this time?” Yunjin leans over, resting her head. 

“Sakura called me to be her muse for her fashion portfolio. Said I fit the profile with the outfits she has in mind. Girl can crochet, but clothes? She has a really good fucking talent for them. I can see her go places.” 

“That’s our Saki,” Yunjin muses, hand up for Kazuha to acknowledge before making her way around the kitchen island, causing you to turn about face. She isn’t going to confront you about that (for God’s sake, you can’t stop thinking about it anyway), but rather stare you down because it’s the usual thing with her. 

It’s a little intimidating that she’s almost your height, with a body well maintained she could go twelve rounds if she wanted. Yunjin watches as Kazuha squints her eyes - works through the fridge for another cold bottle with her gaze trained on you. You and her exchange eyebrow expressions and read into the message through your eyes, Kazuha tilting her chin then breaking eye contact as you twist the other cheek. Next thing you know, her hand smacks your ass. 

“The fuck was that for?” You groan, clearly offended. “You’re the one who wanted the face-off.” 

“For being a dickhead,” Kazuha says with no color in her voice. “Also, thanks for saving me at the party while Sakura was getting railed outside. I owe you one.” 

“Amazing how you say things like that so casually,” you muse, cocking your head. “You’re welcome, I suppose.” 

Kazuha then flashes a look back with her hands now in the pocket of her hoodie. You can’t help but glance over to the defined frame of her face, the slope of her nose, her lack of makeup knowing very well that she’ll get a touch up from Sakura before the lookbook photoshoot. She’s painting a false picture with those baggy clothes she wears on a daily basis, but you and Yunjin are waiting to see the photos once they’re done. 

“Yunjin,” she says. 

“Hm?” Yunjin hums with food in her mouth. 

“Did I ever tell you about his decent looking face?” Kazuha concludes, tilting her head side to side for better angles. “Still a dickhead, though.” 

“Ha. Thanks.” 

She points her lips at you, a quirk of hers that she made as her habit. Her hand goes up in lieu of a goodbye and slides past the wall. 

–

“It’s hilarious because,” Yunjin catches herself mid snort, hand hiding her mouth, “The way they say Jurassic World is so funny to me. And the guy repeats it as ‘Jorassic Wurold’ like- the pronunciation is slightly off when he asks her about the movie.” 

You test the wording with your own mouth but emphasize on the syllables, trying to emulate what she observed from watching the other day. It distracts you from the assortment of ingredients spread out on the cutting table, falling into Yunjin’s shenanigans was always the daily driver no matter what the mood was on the hour. 

Midway through slicing some meats, you’re still practicing the wording on your lips. “Y’know, english is not everyone’s strong suit,” you tell her, portions set aside for some vegetables, leaning the other way to get a better view of your fingers, rolled up and not in the blade’s way, “gotta commend him keeping the conversation going. That takes effort.” 

Yunjin tilts the cup into her face, nodding in agreement; she’s got her legs crossed off the counter, feet pointed up when you glance back to see a hinted eyebrow. Bare face and long lashes fluttering - a light blush on her cheeks as she leans back and puts the bottom of the beverage upwards. 

She smacks her lips soon after, licking her teeth. “He was really into her, you saw it too.” 

The metal blade clacks against the wood. “Huh?” 

“Don’t ‘huh’ me. You know who.” 

“Dex?” 

“Dex,” she repeats, pointing the empty cup in your direction. 

“I saw it happening, don’t worry,” you say, attention drawn back to the chopped up greens now being placed into a bowl. “Part of me was convinced that they would be together when they met from the get-go.” 

For a quick fill-in: it hasn’t been that long since Kazuha went out, a little over thirty to forty-five minutes at most. In that time, you and Yunjin managed to get through a third of a series she picked at random before she started to get more touchy with you. Like the good boyfriend you are - ready at every beck and call, you oblige. Yunjin swung both of her legs onto the seat of the couch, easing into the slow graze of your hands on her thigh, hand cupping her hips and raising the arch in her back when she felt the hard press of your hips against hers. She hates it when it comes to the teasing, but she’s actually a hypocrite on the fact that she does it all the time when you have your legs spread either sitting or laying down; when your brains are fucked into oblivion while she’s on top, bouncing on your balls without a care in the world for damage control. But you broke her brain a little when you grinded into her clothed cunt for fifteen minutes until one of your guys’ stomachs grumbled which put everything on hold for now. 

(There’s always a red herring to be said. For this one in particular, you coined it as: “gotta have that fuel for later, especially if we’re going for more than two rounds.”) 

“Thought so too,” says Yunjin, projecting her own insights when she lets herself down from the polished marble, setting her bearings headway towards you, tending to the ingredients. 

A pot gets put on top of the stove behind you, along with the chopped veggies. “Didn’t he also say that it was a bit late for him to pursue her?” You ask, twisting the dial until the clicking sets the burner to life, gaze locked on Yunjin who stops an inch away. “Something about not being a reliability because of what she’s doing for her career?” 

“Somewhere along those lines, the gap wasn’t too bad either, five years if I recall,” Yunjin supplies, unsure. 

“She was a neuro major, Yunjin.” 

“So?” 

“Dex has his own thing going too, doesn't he?” 

“If you really think about it, I thought it could’ve worked between the two. Yes, he was into her. He was also very amazed with what she was doing with her life. Not to mention the fact that these two clicked the moment he entered the competition as the wild card compared to the other guys. Oh, and that bombshell reveal that she was attending Harvard? Literally gagged the hosts when it first happened. Don’t forget that she was attracted to him for a minute before nothing eventually came to be? I remember showing you the video of those two after the season aired and you can still see the chemistry in them. Some people say that it wouldn’t work out since the scenario is long-distance, but the mother approved of the guy for crying out loud-” You grin and shake your head. Yunjin’s left completely baffled because of it. “-okay, I’m still a firm believer that those two are endgame. That’s my point. I have evidence and a solid reason to back it up. Go ahead, try and test me.” 

“No, I hear you.” You reel her in for a hug while her hands are on her hips. “If it were me, I would’ve thought long and hard about making a big commitment like that.” 

Yunjin sighs, hands sliding up your back. “I know. I really liked their vibe together.” 

Your hands get full of her ass, beneath the fabric of her shirt, laying prints in the mix of skin and threads. Yunjin puts her arms around your neck loosely, stacked and hanging with the slightest pull from her elbows. It’s in the most innocent of pretense, the suggestion heavily implied without the use of words at all. She leans up while you tilt down, meeting in the middle for that overdue relapse of addiction: the lips. She sighs, teeth claiming your mouth as her own, pulling the lovely part of flesh that makes you want to hear those familiar octaves as her body crumbles from the greediness and weight of your touch. 

Every kiss feels like a swan song; the desire of never letting go, press your face deeper into hers, leave a mark on the refreshed canvas waiting to be painted in inspiration and curated for no one else in the world to see. You’re aware that she’s willing to incite change, create something new, get in the right mindset of a familiar avenue in your head where there’s nothing but desperation. It’s in how her fingers rake through your hair, weave down your waist, to your hips, close to the spot where she wants to bring you out the most. 

Think of it as her picking up where she left off on the couch. You could’ve done it right then and there, but you didn’t. 

“Should’ve thought long and hard about earlier, right?” Yunjin teases, half-drunk already with her slack lips. 

“There’s a reason why I set you on the counter in the first place,” you huff, pushing her body past the stove, pinning her against the drawer. “Because of this. I know you, Yunjin.” You then lift her back up to the spot where she started, height difference elevated by a mere few inches. The top of her forehead rests on yours. 

“Such a buzzkill,” she concedes, pouting her heart away like it doesn’t do anything to you. Arms holding you hostage as you try to break free from her grasp. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some kisses around here?” 

“Not a lot,” you offer. 

“Says the person who’s trying to get rid of me.” She doubles down, ankles to your backside and limits the movement. Her exhale is satirical, hoping you’ll dish out the punishment. 

“Your stomach thinks otherwise.” You declare. Pushing her legs apart and retreating. You look over to the kitchen for anything within reach, and settle for an apple. You further the distance between Yunjin to grab it, toss it over as she catches it effortlessly - bites down the fruit in defeat, satiating the cravings. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

(She would much rather have your lips again or even your cock. The fire’s already started, and the water begins to boil.) 

The space feels so far between you two, yet so small. Yunjin holds the apple with her teeth, watches you round the corner of the counter - sees your eyes dart to an open box, the bundle of pasta in the plastic, a knife- something to divert your attention for the time being while you’re forming a strategy in your head - a game plan as to how you’ll deal with her tonight. 

You see: you think you know Yunjin, every part of her body and mind, inside and out. 

She debunks the theory right out of the gate. In a million ways you can’t wrap your head around.  

All she does is straighten her posture, spreads her legs across the glossy wood, and lifts up the fabric past her hips. 

There’s nothing fucking underneath. Just sweet, smooth thighs and her pretty pink glistening  pussy lips. 

It gets your mind racing in confusion: 

“Since when did you-” you’re taken aback, torn from being half-shocked and not-so surprised, also doubling down on the fact she definitely had panties on beneath that shirt. “Didn’t you have something there just a few minutes ago?” 

Yunjin is a master of her art, the trickery in the highest rank imaginable. You envy her intellect at times - her charms, the ways that she can make you speechless just by being herself. This very girl within the walls of your home she claimed as hers, who managed to seep into the nooks of your brain, poisoning you from within until you can’t go for a second longer without wanting to see her gorgeous face, hear her voice; feel her pull you down back to earth while also sending you straight to heaven. None of it really makes sense with her, nor is supposed to. You could go through multiple lifetimes in the existence of the universe and she’ll still find a way to be in all of them. 

Though, she doesn’t give you any chance of solitude with your thoughts. She raises her right hand behind her back, middle and ring finger holding the nylon as her admission of guilt. 

It earns her a small shake of your head, disappointed and impressed in the same moment.  

“Sleight of hand, mister,” she tuts, victorious. Her thumb then grazes against the nylon before falling into its fated purgatory of the floor below. She catches you zoning out, doing two loud clicks of her tongue to keep your eyes on the prize. “My eyes are up here, by the way.” 

“Where did you think I was looking?” 

“Probably at something that matters.”

“And that is?” 

“Fuck if I know- oh wait, I do know. You’re just not doing anything about it.” 

“Want me to proclaim it out loud?” You inquire, sardonically - as if you were willing to play along with her little game of pragmatics, read into the lines of a script and catch the nuances of a hidden message past the sentences. “State the obvious since the naivety is starting to become unbearable for you?” 

“I never said that,” Yunjin rebukes. Hand sliding down to her legs - those dainty fingers having their own fun. 

And you begin your endeavor back to her. One graciously little step at a time. 

Your ears tick at the sudden hitch of breath, muffled by the apple blocking her mouth. It’s on purpose. God help her. She curls her fingertips at the first dip inside her cunt the more you glide over the floor. The weight of your feet becomes less heavier and lighter in every move. Yunjin’s head bumps the cabinet, hips tensing at the rush of her fingers sliding across her folds. She won’t fuck herself like this. No- she would prefer to have you deal the actual blows to her body when you’ve finally decided enough is enough. We’re getting there, don’t worry. Just. A little. Push. 

She finally lets the apple go from her mouth, off to where it’ll most likely be disregarded into the sink or the trash. You can’t stop the constant twitching your hands are doing; so while the pathway is clear, you take into account of the bubbling pot next to you, putting a lid on to make the gurgling much more muted, zero in on the vibrations rumbling in Yunjin’s throat, focus on the rise of her chest. 

Her head drops and to the side, the pull of fabric molding to her figure. Emphasizing on the curves of her waist, those mounds, the present appearance of her hard nipples. The implications clear as day in the form of a seductive summoning. 

But you start slowly: a hand to her knee, then the other. Anticipation is killing you both. 

Landfall.

“What am I gonna do with you?” You sigh, looking down at the sight of Yunjin touching herself, thick air being expelled from your lungs, wiping your inner self clean before repurposing to acclimate the need of getting dirty again. 

Yunjin pulls a lazy grin, beautifully - and leans back while her hips slips forward. Her grip guides your wrists over her skin, shirt hiked up past her waist and into her hips by the second. “You don’t have to say or do if you want to.” She offers, but that’s the setup. “Just wisely biding your time.” 

Not much of it has changed, the way you willingly sink down to your knees. You’re romantic about it - deserves a smirk for the appreciation. You glance up to her toffee shaded eyes, fingers rotating to hook firm on the peak of her thighs, extend your arms up high like she’s some sacred treasure, proffering. “Darling,” and the singular word sets the rest of the testament into place, the burgeoning intention of her demise at your hands. You think back to a week ago: where she found herself in the familiar pecking order, back on the linoleum with her elbow as faulty support, splitting her open and feel her body go limp when you made her cum like she suggested. Your mouth freezes with a gasp when you look closely at her seeping slit, heart stopped as you examine in awe. “I’ll have all the time in the world,” you mumble - or what’s close, honestly - into the plush surface of her thighs, brush your lips down a familiar path you know very well. “But you, gotta slowly show me you deserve it.” 

Her breath hitches again, hesitating. Nerves seizing muscle right where they are. 

“At this rate we’ll be here all night,” she hums, eyes torn from gazing down and spacing out to something in the distance. “Not that I mind, of course, but-” she then nibbles on her lip at the feeling of yours on her legs, deluded and washed over with lust to forget about everything else, “dinner’s still on the cards, yes?” 

“Pick up that apple. You eat while I eat, how bout that?” You propose the solution. One which Yunjin can’t ignore. 

She reaches for the apple and stares into the yellow crater, taking another bite. Cheeks full of fruity bits. “I could get used to this,” her jaw trembling and breath spilling out in a shudder. “Wouldn’t you rather hear-” 

Her neck loosens at the swipe of your tongue over her folds, apple tossed off to the side one more likely never to be eaten again. She leaks out a little more slick for you to clean up, and it’s delightful. Yunjin fancies the idea of scooting her hips forward, thighs hanging out and barely her ass on the counter, providing you more space to work with when your arms hook around the swell of her ass and pull her closer, hand quick to the crease of her knee to put her heel on your collarbone and takes her fingers into your hair, spread one side of her folds and dip your tongue in some more, consuming the warmth down your throat and eat her out alive. 

“Honey,” you proclaim with an arch to your eyebrow, breathless, “You’re fucking leaking.” 

Yunjin pulls this devilish grin, yanks your head back a little further back for you to look up, face twisted with madness. Staring deep into your soul, insatiable. “Your turn to eat, baby.” 

Very few people can play your game, but Yunjin was a whirlwind full of surprises. Each one more shocking than the last. 

“What’s wrong? Speechless?” she asks, but doesn’t give you a second to respond when she reels your head back in. 

So you put your mouth back what’s rightfully yours: press your tongue into her aching cunt and save the words for later. 

You hear her wince, picturing the pained expression in the creased eyebrows, eyes closed shut, jaw hung low. She grinds your face deeper, much deeper to the point where she’s needy enough to feel the light graze of your teeth. 

You slide your fingers into her, unfazed when her knees close your head in, giving you no chance to breathe. Her pants increase in pace, falling apart just a few inches above you. The sounds are absolutely wonderful, blessing you with the harmonious repertoire of moaning spilling out of her mouth - lapping up the wetness at the curl of your finger, cleaning up the salty sweetness of her arousal, slick spread across skin and the sensitive response of her clawing hand into your hair. 

Yunjin’s hair starts to pool over the front of her face, the sight alone is a delight in itself. The ripped collar showing more of her pale shoulder, handfuls of the shirt now undone as her other hand joins the fray on your head, body clenching and relaxing - unsure on which choice is the right one. You and her both listen in to the soft licks and wet smacks of skin and folds, hear her giggle in relief until your nose brushes up against her clit, throbbing core given a quick second of grace before you dive back in and don’t spare a chance for her to breathe. She asked for this, and you expect her to handle it as best she can. Until she’s whimpering and desperate and begging to be more useful than just your mouth and hands. Till she has to say the very words herself in what she wants, while her frame trembles delicately. 

More, more. The boiling pot next to you starts to bubble past the cover, droplets of water hitting the grill and sizzling. You push your tongue in deeper, get the gloss over your lips, pull her folds apart wider and hit the same spot where it kills her over and over, notice the curl of her toes into your shirt, dig her heel deep into the threads. Yunjin bites down her teeth, hand to her breast and gripping tightly. The bubbles start to lift the lid, popping. 

“Can you - be - even more - god, holy fuck-” she spits, words stuttering as her hips slide out over the edge, prompting you to hold her high, drop your jaw even more, kiss and suck the untouched areas and spread her legs. She gasps. “Baby,” she laughs even louder, slapping her palm down on the countertop, “God, I can’t believe-” 

She rucks her hips upward, mimicking a thrust. Your head fades out the rest of the outside noise. 

“-you, of all people-” And a moan pierces your ears, the sound heavenly. Yunjin’s hand palms the back of your head as you start to alternate an up and down motion. Her high imminent, in the curl of your knuckle and lick of your tongue pushing her closer to that pedestal. You push and pull, let the grip of her fingers guide you to the spots where she needs it. Her way of life: the taste of her; warm and addicting. “Fuck, s-shit, there- there! Right there-” 

You open your mouth even more, drinking her mess until she has you drowning in it. Her swollen cunt’s quivering. You can’t help yourself but smile. 

“Need your mouth, your tongue- your- fuck-” 

You’re happily swimming. 

It’s even better when her chest is puffed up, back arched. At a loss for words and just straight up gone. You hold her down as she’s shaking and suck her pussy for your own benefit - devouring her relentlessly, voice broken to a shriek as her juices gush around your tongue and fingers, groaning lowly while you carry on licking the mix of plush-soaked skin, feel the lingering effects of her orgasm leave her body with a harsh pull of her clit on your lips. 

She’s trying everything to calm down, head lightly tapping the cabinet behind her. Clawed fingers releasing their grasp as you help yourself up, legs loosely wrapped around yours and posture reduced to a slouch. “Hate you, by the way. I hate you the way that you are.” She tells you, arms barely placed on your shoulders, slipping. “Why do you have to be so good at being a douche?” 

“Don’t follow your point,” you dart back with a sigh. Height restored and hands back to where they started: on her knees; you cock your head to the right, get a closer look at Yunjin’s messy hair, rumpled shirt, thighs glistening and pink- 

She smacks the side of your neck, earning a pitiful laugh. You’re aware that she loves these kinds of treatments: the kind of treatment where you want her to tenderly run her hand down your face, whisper in your ear of all the things she wants you to do, sliding deep into her cunt and let the heat consume you, wanting - you’ve got get a grip, seriously. She has your head spiraling and somehow you always come out on top of it; the usual bouts where the victor has already been decided. “One day, you’ll see what I mean.” 

“I have a hard time understanding you and Kazuha as it is,” mouth agape, bearing no mind to the act she’s trying to pull. Unpredictability was one of Yunjin’s strong suits and that was no surprise: peeling her shirt off over her shoulders and lifting the veil hiding the endless curves of her body - the slutty little waist, long thighs, her breasts- 

“Maybe I can help you with that,” she offers, lacking judgement. Her hand slips underneath your sweats, fingers taking hold of your cock, confirming her suspicions. Your mouths meet once again, sloppily, you giving leeway after eating out her cunt and in return she has you twitching. “Goodness me,” she mutters into the warmth of your mouth, tempted, rubbing that effect on you. “I bet you’re just dying to stick this inside of me already.” 

“Watch your mouth.” 

“Or what-” she grins lazily. 

You grasp the skin a little bit tightly as your other hand cups her cunt, the heel of your palm digging into her clit. 

“-fuck, that’s what you meant,” her voice diminishing with lidded eyes. 

You then quickly take into account the small funnel of air blowing from the cover; the whirr of the vent above coming to life. 

Yunjin scoots herself over the counter, sees you tug your cock out of pants, lip to teeth as it gently touches her skin. It’s all part of the pecking order, how things build up high to eventually fall - second nature, muscle memory, all the same. 

She’s got her arms and legs around you, inching her hips forward to speed up the process, hopeful in you wrecking her body as always: “You know, not talking isn’t gonna get you everywhere if you don’t do it,” she goes on, no care for your fidgeting hands rubbing up and down her thighs. 

“What the hell is this, a silent treatment?” she asks again, impatience starting to get to her. “C’mon, say something.” 

You serve her anything but that, slicking your fingers with her cum and tap the pads into her skin, gently feeling her sensitive clit to make her lose her train of thought. She’s incessant, but it’s rare for her to be less on the offensive in pressing you for once, so you’ll take full advantage of it. 

“What do you want me to say? I’ve already told you about my observations,” you answer, digits sliding in her cunt and the girl just nods. She’ll notice but still talk out of her ass, since she loves the thrill. Her accompanying grin along with the lip bite and wink sells the whole image, leans you in with the shirt wrapped around your neck, pulling. The small twinge of romance attached. 

The shirt then crumples on the floor when she lets go. 

“That I’m fucking leaking? You sucked me clean, I can barely feel my legs.” 

“Right,” you laugh, working her face some more until her hands go languid. 

Her look goes curt, dismissive. Lashes fluttering in every blink because that’s the second best thing she has in her bag of tricks, aware of the double-edgedness it ensues. She inhales sharply, quick, sudden, bracing the tip of your cock sliding across her folds. “How long has it been since you last fucked me? Yesterday? Two days ago? Finally having your fun since I sucked you off last time, hm?” 

“I don’t need to answer that,” you rebuke. “There’s no point to it.” Is the everlasting conclusion. 

She cocks her head to the left. Elbow holding her up in the best way she can, arching her back again, your cock in position at her awaiting entrance, cup your fingers into her hip. “Don’t blame me for killing you this time.” 

Her face steadies, frozen. Then: the lines of her face warble, mouth dropping. Cunt inviting your tip pressing in. 

“Like I ever would,” she scoffs, right hand to the back of your neck, clinging. “This is what I wanted, remember?” 

(The way that she’s spread, heel hooking to your knee, she’s stripped and defenseless against you. It’s the guilty pleasure you have as her pussy accommodates you, all wet and inviting that it won’t be a struggle to fit in one seamless push. Regardless: that part alone makes sense.) 

“Question is,” you murmur during the break of eye contact, staring lower at the view of your cock finally slips inside and see the quick contraction of her stomach - like she was ready to take a punch to the gut - glancing back up and watch her eyelids flutter at the feeling. “You can’t do anything in this situation, can you?” This girl just came in your mouth a few minutes ago but she’s takes you in with no problem: filling every inch of you in a beautifully fucked up missing piece that she’s constantly deprived of every time. You dig your fingers deep into the skin, stop halfway, then continue to wrench out every inch of her walls. 

“God,” Yunjin grits, breath seething in the gaps of her teeth, brows furrowed. “Go to- fuck-” 

She doesn’t even finish the sentence when you push further. Replaced with a moan instead; her cheeks and nose wrinkle, fingers balled up to a fist behind and her elbow shaking. Her head barely keeping herself together with the cabinet as a last support, failing terribly. 

You stop your movements because the lines on her face are forming toward a familiarity: nervous, dazed, hesitant. A quick twitch of your head negates all of those thoughts away and instead focuses on ramming your hips into her, the clash of skin rippling through you and her both. 

It’s the bravado that she carries, the playfulness, her shift of her sly words, withering and fading at the amount of you: she’s fighting every fiber of muscle to sputter out her needs, though the sweat and slick spread out over body make up in the defilement of her undoing. You can see through her bullshit, and all she sees is the glide of your shaft back into her pussy - the width of you stretching so effortlessly her body forms a jagged line along the frame, mewling and bucking forward. Your fingers hold her hips still, drag your cock along the tightness, fill her up until she says otherwise. 

“Makes no sense,” Yunjin huffs, gasping, head halfway in the gutter, trying to form a point. Her hands try to carry out her words, clinging, cock-full at the lean up, foreheads clashing. She whines into your skin, “Jesus- holy shit, dear fucking Christ-” 

You’ll swallow her words and understand her completely. 

Well- to say that her hot cunt is incredible would suffice so much. The more you push, the more the connection feels like it’s meant to be, in all the filth and the intimacy that’s thrown without thinking of the repercussions after. 

You’ll give your praises and thanks - how her pussy grips around your cock so snug and tight and perfect, sing it into the skin and walls around you, paint it over as many times you’d like. To have a girl like her: a muse, with the desire and hunger impossible to resist, make you sink deeper and deeper where it won’t feel suffocating. 

“Yeah?” you hear yourself say. Like you needed to explain yourself again. “Wouldn’t you know it.” 

The strokes. You’re fucking up into her so nicely, give her no chance to breathe, legs hooked around your thighs. She’s opening up her body to you - you’re marking your own territory: shower her face with kisses, suck the skin across her neck, slide your arms underneath her back and keep pounding at the one angle where the trembling reaches her throat, presses her tongue to the back row of her teeth. 

Christ, you really have no care; roughing her up on the kitchen counter right before dinner time. The fan above you two continues to whirr the smoke in the air where it masks the bundle of moans and curses spewing out of her lips. You could feel her fingers drag across your back, keeping herself close to you, fearful that you’ll stop like earlier and make her beg for more until she has her fix. 

“Baby, baby, holy fuck,” you follow her voice, brushed up against your ear, sift your eyes back onto her and watch her loose mouth. She swallows, grazing the crown of her head to yours. “This cock, I fucking love it. I fucking love it so much, I could die here with how you’re-” 

You shut her up, meet in the middle. Line up the beating of your heart to the move of your hips, lock your arms around her back; she’ll come crawling for that high again, blinded by the guarantee of you forcing her orgasm later. 

“Yunjin,” you grit. Nearing that inevitable crash-out. It’s a never ending cycle of madness. Her cunt is eating your cock alive, soaking your waist. You want it all. 

You want her to cum again: this time on your cock; you want to carry her in her arms, fuck your cock without her feet touching the ground; you want her to scream your name so loudly that it breaks the windows around the house. You’ll never have enough of the indescribable body and feeling that she has, ruining you over and over - not to mention her mouth - that too, is another dangerous addiction. 

A fair bout. The fight for who's bolder. Who can make the other person more vulgar by the second. 

These things have been decided right from the start. 

Yunjin muffles a whimper behind her lips, cock clogging up her cunt like she’s backing away, hiding. 

“Need it, need it so fucking much,” she hushes. “You- your cock. Can never get enough of my pretty little cunt - fuck I should just let you fuck me all day, all night, whenever you feel like it.” Her voice is rasped, the words alone sinister: “Warm you up when you least expect it, yeah? You’d like that, don’t you-” She yelps, nose scrunching when you bottom out and press your groin up against her clit, stomach contracting and relaxing as if she’d done five minutes of planking. 

So you drag out and thrust in - slam your hips into hers, holding the motion there, repeating it soon after. Her hand files up to the cabinet door above and shove your cock down to the hottest point, where the wobbles of her waist finally reach up to her tits. 

Because that’s really the only thing there is to it. Brain fucked out to mush with the marks and glistening sweat spread across, remnants of what the short period has passed. 

Like you can’t help yourself. It’s in the enamored looks, the pockets of air siphoned before it’s coughed out, in the blissful enjoyment of fucking your slick cock in and out. “Holy shit,” she’s saying, head toppled off and arm going limp. She saves the energy for other than talking - let the waves of pleasure sweep her body and have you project her thoughts out for her: delirious and maniacal. “I hear- yeah- Okay. Okay, you said it yourself.” 

Of course she agrees, and she knows. Whittled down to the fine rawness of it. What else is there left to say? 

She’s amazingly gorgeous and beautiful - a gift from God himself. You remind her every time like it’s the first. When her lips met the end of your cock months ago, blowing your world away, the stretch of her pussy swallowing you whole and the tension was undoubtedly abysmal. Another second passes a shared breath: Yunjin-god-fucking-dammit, and there’s a bunch of other shit that gets said, listless and nonsensical where the only thing left to do is let the blistering warmth and clashing tongues do all the work for the both of you. 

It’s normal: the way that she clings like she hasn’t seen you for days - leaning back with an arch and quite literally her feet off the ground. 

Every moan sounds punctuated lazily, whining and whimpering and in a pitch where she almost sounds scared. 

Still, she’s lost the plot: “Fuck me.” 

That’s where everything clicks, a flame extinguished and replaced for something new, something profound: her face clenches in the quick swap of pain to relief, when you’ve put your cock at a spot inside where she sobs; the pleasure so intense the both of you exhale in unison, almost like a ‘got you’ moment entirely. 

“Honey,” you say against her cheek, fingers planted in the divot of her lower back, spreading her so well the motion is absolutely seamless, a perfect fit and pace to ruin. “Look at you, so lovely; this fucking cunt feels amazing; oh my goodness.” Your words are making sense, barely, but it’s always on this path since you’ve met the girl; you just can’t help yourself. “I adore this pussy a little too much, don’t you think?” 

“So funny, ah-” she quips, a smile brandished across her lip, eyes rolling to the back of her head, holding on to the last bits of common sense left, knowing well there’s no point. “I’d let you, to be honest. A good deal: my pussy for your cock. Fair trade?” 

“Fuck yes,” is what slips out of your mouth, a truth to savor for eternity. “Want it all.” 

It goes both ways: she wants to peg complete bullshit to you, say her fantasies of how big of a slut she can actually be, fuck that snark out of her until she’s satisfied - but then you watch and listen to the more mundane things she does, and your head can’t comprehend it either. You want her, her mind, her body, the secrets that she keeps locked up in a box sunk in the bottom of a river; things that she doesn’t want anyone to find out about; where the dares of admission only comes once in a blue moon and she tries to pass it along in conversation. 

You could make an endless list as to what makes Yunjin a treasure to behold, to keep - proclaim it out loud like you haven’t done so already - a collapsing, beautiful madness, honestly. She’s holding you so close and you can’t afford to let go. That’s just how it is. All it takes is one look into her eyes and you never want to leave. 

“You’re amazing,” you say to her, breathless. 

Yunjin’s lashes flutter shut immediately after. As if you had to tell her again and again. 

Her hips stay still while yours continue to move, every aftershock sent through her body creates these ridges you’re proud of, ankles to the swell of your ass, clamping around your cock, grinding teeth with her voice croaking: “-good, so good, so fucking good, please, for the love of God-” 

Her upper lip arches the more she inhales, mouth hung open as the moans crumble on top of each other. Most have complained about the increase in occupancy, the hollers of a drinking game, midnight conversations about relationship mishaps and failures, bassline of a song that reverberates on the drywall and the occasional shouting battles that usually ended up stopping after a few minutes. Your neighbors do hear the constant pounding at some point during the day, annoyed and fed up like they didn’t want to have the fun themselves, each thrust bouncing her where her breasts jiggle on the upstrokes, palm full of them, the feel firm and heavy; and you look at her face again - where a certain crease of skin, above her brow, and you know that she’s going to lose it over your cock, how her limbs will surrender willingly, reduced to mush and cradling the fuck through her. 

Yunjin’s arm springs forward over your shoulder. You pull her up, sit upright, body bouncing with her ass well off the counter, the angle primed and ready where the shocks to her ass start to become a cushion, tits wobbling and hypnotic and bouncing; you keep- keep fucking her little hole with no regard for her life. 

It’s right where she wants you to be. 

You’ll lay your flowers later, if you’re even alive to tell the tale: how Yunjin is completely destroyed by your shaft. Her hair frazzled, eyes half open and head tilted towards shame and in the closest iteration of a cocksleeve it could get. She’s so fucked into oblivion where it’s worth having served the verdict. The last moments of light that you want to keep forever, stay as long as you can. 

When her lips meet yours, sweeping: a part of you starts to break beneath the cracks. 

She’s trying so hard to keep a hand to your waist, then the counter, but you’re holding with every bottom out at the base and you entertain the idea where you could go any deeper, fuck her harder- 

“Just-” she pleads, into your mouth, right on your tongue. “Yours. All yours. Fuck me like it’s the only thing that matters-” 

“Jen,” you groan out raggedly, lock your elbows to her chest, matching the drag of her nails. 

“Gonna cum so much,” is what you think she says. “Look at you, such a good boy.” Her pointer finger grazes the line of your jaw. “Plugging me full, I know you love it,” she dryly laughs, lightly pinching your hip when she hears the hint of a squelch of your cock sliding back in her, “this big, fucking cock,” and she’s really not helping you in this situation, claiming you as her own, soul snatched with no hope of returning it: “Pumping and pumping until I can’t get enough. Fuck. You’re so good at this, so fucking naughty. Got you all hard and needy for me - pounding my poor little pussy just to set me right,” this girl is fucking demonic, with the stuff that she’s telling you, her body right there in your hands; you haven’t been thinking straight since you’ve gone down on her - that cunt, her pussy lips gliding your cock with her slick soaking you endlessly- 

“Shut the fuck up,” is what you manage, a futile attempt to stop her. Like it would ever work at all. “Don’t do that. Don’t do this to me.” It’s impossible. You’re so easy to trick, gullible enough to fall for anything that comes out of her mouth, let her take the advantage and leave you with nothing at the end. She believes that you’ve had your fun, and the turn switches back to her. 

“Or what?” Yunjin smiles, nearing bliss. “Wanna cum on me? In me? Use your words, baby boy.” 

You swear, or something close to that. 

The rush becomes too much to bear, the thought of doing what she exactly wants: pulling your cock out of her tight cunt and paint your load all over her stomach, or- the more addicting idea of burying your dick inside her so deep that your release has a one way trip - you simply just- can’t. You shouldn’t. Not because to play it safe, but you’re safeguarding the responsibility of the filthiness that comes with it - what you could do - what you’ve done to her. Instead, you should throw her onto the floor, on her knees, shove your cock down her dirty mouth and cum in her throat or on her face, watch her clean up the mess you’ve made, press the thick tip of your cock on her plump lips and have her taste the sweetness of you. Have her drink it down until she has those doe brown eyes of hers looking up in acceptance. She’s beautiful: in the most fucked up, soaking, ginger-haired possible way imaginable. 

“Let- let me-” you sputter towards a growl, but you can’t keep up with her words and replace it with the pace - how her cunt fits your cock so well like a perfect shoe, lengthy frame detrimental to yours. “Fuck, just let me-” 

“Mhm,” she hums, unfazed. 

“Fuck this slutty little cunt of yours,” you finally manage, and more of a promise already written; you continue to fuck into her, snap your hips in where your balls start knocking above the pucker of her ass, working your cock along those velvety walls, feel the gush with every squeeze of muscle along her pussy, stretching amazingly with the clench. 

“Keep going.” She prods at your waist. 

Oh, she knows where this is going. It’s hot. It’s diabolical. It just feels right. You’re convinced that she’s figured you out, but playing dumb on purpose to see you admit it right in front of her. She sees the quick rise and fall of your chest - your shoulders, fingers grasping pale skin as it turns to something crimson, glance at the devilish smile she possesses that severs all the nerves in your brain: you are so fucking down bad for this woman, and you can’t do anything about it. 

“Keep-” 

“I know,” and you do. 

“Love this. Love you. Love everything that’s happening,” says Yunjin, praising. “Tell me all the things- the things you want to do to me.” 

“Sweetie,” you gasp at the next firm thrust, “gonna put my cock in your mouth, fuck your throat until you choke,” you snap, madness fully consmed, “fuck your holes full and then-” 

Then what? Have her ask to pound her ass? Ride you? Make her scream with the doors wide open? What more could you say or do that isn’t in the cauldron of pure insanity- 

“Use me more,” Yunjin sighs, and that’s the crystal clear thought pulled right out of your cock, “take me, grab wherever, I just need- god, your cum- want your cum so fucking much,” each word in that sentence rising an octave, “Cum,” a simple mantra, a demand. Yunjin’s creaming cunt, filling her up whole, you’re gonna burst inside and she’ll happily accept it as a gift, getting off on the sound ripping through your chest, hips bucking, legs tensing, her lower half quivers beneath you; attitude reduced to soft sounds, you taking full advantage with the fall-off imminent. 

Some of these things, you can’t afford to think; fucked up as it is, it’s better to revel in the silliness and disregard the common sense. 

“Oh fuck,” you hear her breathe, tone low and insanely turned on, her smile already showing she’s won. “Fuck yes-” 

But even if you’re splitting her insides apart, a small fraction of control rests within you, feeling the curves of her body ripple, in a slowing rhythm, pound her cunt for one more second and finally give her the reward. 

A rope of cum is all she gets on the inside; as for the rest- 

“Yes- wait no, fuck- what are you doing?” Yunjin sounds completely in shock for what you’ve committed, snuff the flame out from her pulsing cunt, slide yourself out of the tightness, hold her leg up since she’s too weak to resist. You’re going to hell, but so is she. Painting all over the flat plane of her stomach, coating her pale skin with your cum. “You fucking bitch- that doesn’t belong there,” but she’s too fucked out to do anything about it, and you don’t even bother to dish out a good comeback, let the actions do the talking for you: “Put it back, please, please,” and you do as she says. 

It’s a fresh feeling, the way her warmth envelops your soft cock, holding it so nicely as you help her sit back up properly. Mouth back on you instantaneously. 

“I’m gonna get back at you,” is what she says against your grazing lips, brushing her cheek along the tip of your nose. Her nails lightly scratch your back, ruffles into your hair. “If you’re up for it, you’ll follow.” 

“Challenging me? A bit crude, even for you,” you remark - she grins into your face, slides off the counter, fingers dancing along your slick, softening cock. 

A familiar look in her eyes. Telling you, yeah, I know - underlying the surface, but she’s got her entire hand in every crook of your brain, unfaltering: “We’ll see.” Then she says, “Get your ass on the sofa.” 

–

If there’s anything you learned about Yunjin: she never backs down from her word. 

Oh- and your mouth’s formed in the way she wants it to be. You’ve got it all wrong there, too. 

She tells you to keep your hands on the seat, at the sides and on the ready; impulsively, you want to pick up right where you left off from the kitchen, eyes locked between your legs, her head graciously bobbing up and down, vibrations all over the sensitive surface - feeling the pinching cramp in your backside, tensing the muscle, swallowing the opposite end of you with ease. 

Her lips stop halfway when you raise your hand a bit too high for her liking. 

“Fuck me, Yunjin,” you mutter, watching her sink your cock into her throat. “Don’t do that.” 

Yunjin flashes a glare, flutters her eyelids shut, drags her head back up and gasps. Her mouth is one thing. Her hands? They show you no mercy. You’ve been in this scenario before - a lot of times for some quick context, so tonight isn’t any different. She’s working you tightly at your balls and the base, intending to wring you clean of the release you should’ve left inside her. The one-two punch killer enough to leave you paralyzed from the waist down; she runs her mouth on the tip, tongue tracing a vein and the underside, curling her fingers and stroking so delicately- 

Yeah. You’re pretty much fucked like this. It’s a losing situation. 

Your head falls back while your hips slide forward, turning your body over to her mouth which earns a moan in response. The look on her face is deadly, and the sounds ripping through your chest implicates your high not far to reach. Those fucking plump lips: well parted and sliding all over her spit, moving back up and sinking again, the suction a bit more forceful the second time around, cheeks puffing and hollowing, blinking dutifully. 

She knows how badly you want to fuck her face, shove your cock into her mouth and expect a reward in return. Yunjin knows you want to get there, eventually, pulling herself off and twists your shaft, sees the tilt of your chin to the ceiling, relishing the submission. 

“So fucking hard,” she grins, examining the mix of her spit and slick all over you, listening to the wet noises she created. “I can’t wait to taste your cum again.” 

She’s too good for your own sake, and you can’t fight back on it. 

“Be a good little toy and relax,” Yunjin instructs gently. Puckering her lips and slapping your sensitive head all over them. Soft. Lucious. Sinful. Her innocent blinks fail to cover it, nor the fact how pretty she looks with a pensive expression: it’s evil. “Let me take care of you, okay?” 

You nod right away and she dives back down. Her tongue rubs around the tip between her lips, flattening to slide you into the softness and sleek feeling of her throat, bathing you with spit when your hips produce the slightest hitch. She’s had enough practice with you - to know how her tongue moves in all the ways she knows you love, easily bottoming the whole length like she has before, determined to hear you groan in rapture, and you do. 

“Christ, Yunjin- baby-” you grit, and your head falls back to the head of the couch. 

When she sucks, you flex your ankles forward. The mess worsens before it gets better, streams of drool leaking over your cock. She spreads it around with her mouth, her fingers, palm flattening, her lips fully sealed at the root, her nose digging into your waist. You’re amazed and how well she takes you, holding her head down for a few seconds - that’s the personal trial she set for herself: how long she could keep you there, the flex in her neck, gurgling and choking. It’s also dangerous in the fast switch up from the clamp of her throat to the alternating pace of her flushing your cock in and out, deepthroating you to the point where she can feel your whole body twitch. A pressure point, cutting the line until it’s completely severed. 

You’re sucking so much air into your lungs, creating a pocket at your waist. She pops her mouth off the tip and has the audacity to cackle in your face. 

She’s testing the endurance to it’s limit, her slick hands wrapped well around your shaft when she tends to your balls, getting mouthful of each one and peppering them with licks and kisses, hair pooling over your waist and to your thighs, knowing how good she as at fucking breaking you. There’s no denying that your girlfriend is an irresistible cockslut and personal toy, since the part goes both ways when it’s the right occurrence. Once she’s through the few moments of breathing, her jaw slacks and takes you back in, hearing you huff at the subtle graze of her teeth. 

The moan sputters out on impulse as you get careless and place your hand to Yunjin’s cheek, rubbing a thumb below her eye, and you could see the tick at the corner of her mouth break into a smile. She lifts her head up, giggles at the shudder of your thighs when her teeth taps your cockhead. “Aw, are you worked up already?” 

“More or less,” you answer, and it’s a sudden moment of grace, a blessing in disguise, mind telling the rest of your body to calm down as she slowly jerks you off. “You know me, I wouldn’t back down on your escapades,” and you moan again when she speeds up the pace, “Seriously, it’ll be on you if I cum like this.” 

She kisses your cock and licks. This girl can’t be helped. “What a shame. Hope it doesn’t come to that.” 

“We can do this all night if we have to, so why not?” 

Yunjin lets out a dry laugh. “We will, don’t worry,” she says, carefully pumping you and swipes her thumb over the slit, seeing the thread of precum bridged across, twisting at the middle. “It’s just been a while since we’ve had a conversation while I gave you head.” 

“What’s on your mind this time?” you inquire, playing into the deliberation, “Probably something intriguing, I assume.” 

Yunjin blinks, locks her finger and thumb around the base of your shaft. “You think Kazuha’s fucked a cock like this?” 

You stare, pondering, it takes a second longer for the question to set in because it’s entirely out of left field. “You’re asking me out of all people? How the fuck would I know? She doesn’t bring those kinds of details up with me whenever we talk about it.” 

“But I can’t help but wonder,” Yunjin tuts, hand carelessly sliding around you, nicking her head back. “Have you ever fantasized about your best friend?” 

“Yunjin, that’s just weird. Fuck no-” 

“Aw, you can be honest with me. You and I don’t keep secrets with her as it is, no need to hide.” 

She then tips her head, flickers her eyes up at the heavy sigh your mouth makes when her lips make contact with your cock. Her smile goes even wider, noticing the twitch at your eyebrow, how you’re clenching your teeth and bring your chest up to your shoulders - where she’s managed to work you up with the finesse and enchantment that’s simply exuded from her. 

There’s nothing much for you to do except sitting back and let Yunjin take your whole length into her mouth. No notes or objections for her to hear, but the sticky wet sounds slathering your shaft and your body moments away from finally giving the reward she rightfully deserves. 

“Pretty fucked up sense,” you’re mumbling your head off, moving wisps of her hair out of her face, thinking less and less as she stuffs her throat of you, keeling and leaning forward to where you’re lifting your ass off the couch. “Shit-” 

This is her version of a truth serum, a polygraph; her mouth and hands working beautifully in tandem, her collarbone vanishing into her neck, guiding you to the well-wrapped grip she has with her fingers, fucking you with panache in the hot curves of her throat. 

She loves it when you’re like this: bending to her will and getting you off with the tightest fist. Wringing you clean now that you’ve done the hard work. 

Her hand cups your balls, nails scratching the ridges. The pace she keeps is relentless, alternating from base to tip so excruciatingly well, twisting and jerking and fucking- 

“Mmph?” 

“You’d be surprised if I said yes.” 

Yunjin slides her mouth off once more, spits the underside, lapping up the slick. “No fucking way. You’ve thought about it before?” 

“Predates you, if you want me to be more specific.” 

She flashes the same wicked grin you’ve seen before, tongue tracing a path at the root. Pursing her lips when she inhales, taking in the scent. Legitimately, fuck her. Lashes fluttering heavy with the eyelids, pupils dilating and too faded for you to notice. “If it makes you feel better, I came to that conclusion a while back, just didn’t say anything.” 

“Were you sparing me?” 

Yunjin ticks her lips, still smiling, taking pride at the concurrence. “It is also hot for you to finally confess about her.” Her hand plants firmly at your thigh and you consciously thrust your hips back in, gasping in beautiful bliss. She swallows you back up again, clenching her throat and sealing where you’re blinking a lot more faster this time. That rose colored mouth humming along the skin with every puff of her cheeks, flushing it perfectly like it’s practiced. Her back arches and bends, unfazed with the constant shake of your right leg, all the motions culminating in your muscles and hers, rising and rising- 

“Yeah, okay, alright, I’m- holy shit-” 

“Mmmphphm-” 

Your composure snaps, hand now to her head, a death grip in her hair, fucking her face ruthlessly, drunk at the feeling of her mouth and the obscene gawking noises and the bob of her throat curling your cock, lips smaking and drooling more that you regret not putting a towel on the hardwood floor beneath you two. 

It’s incredibly difficult to internalize, let alone imagine the wish you could capture this feeling for eternity, bring it out from a bottle at the shortest convenience. Yunjin doesn’t falter with the moaning, friction slippery and neurons overloaded, delusion finally high and head still to you - plugging her hot mouth full of your cock, sliding in the smooth muscle, throbbing. 

She takes another deep breath, earning a palm to her face, gaze wistful and deep into your soul. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” 

Damn right you are. 

Yunjin doesn’t need to clarify what she said, since she already knew. Instead, the flicks of her wrist are astonishingly meticulous, amazed that you’re rock solid not just because of her, but rather the thought of Kazuha doing the same thing to you, given with the experience. 

“I think you’re ready,” she declares, and the sentence alone is loaded with different interpretations. 

She doesn’t savor the moment of grace soon after, siphons the breath out of you when she puts her lips back on your cock. Your mind’s no longer there, thinking: Yunjin, Kazuha - the pair doing numerous things to you all at once. Trading your cock between their hot mouths, hands stacked along your shaft, pressing into their slick cunts and watch them keen of being split apart. Yunjin’s sloppy mouth fucking you brings it back to reality, slit leaking and ready to burst. She licks once, twice, thrice, lips wrapped around your cockhead and hand twisting the shaft, aiming in one direction where the load should go. 

Your thighs tense, breathing ragged, shoulders back and chest out when her eyes go wide - shocked at the first thread of cum caught in the roof of her mouth. A pillow falls off from the couch as you’re fighting the urge to push her face away from your hips and that’s when it get worse. 

It hadn’t been that long since you last came, but the surprise was a welcome one when more shots of white start spilling over your stomach, her hands, her face, on her button nose, your shaft twitching in her hands when she hovers her mouth over your tip and seals it to safeguard remnants of the damage. 

“Yunjin, fuck- oh, fuck-” 

“Mmm,” she hums gleefully, licking the mess off of you and squinting at the leaking slit, pulsing out more. Your cock softening again and body in a complete mess, fingertips carefully moving on your belly and brain falling in and out of consciousness. “Oh my god. You came so fucking much.” 

She nuzzles her face into your side, observing your chest calming down: “didn’t think I had more in me.” And that’s pretty ironic coming from you. “Congrats, babe. Consider me dead.” 

“There’s more where that came from,” replies Yunjin, orange hair swirling over your shoulder. “We’re even now.” 

Doesn’t get any better than that, really. The score stands at one-to-one. 

–

“By the way,” Yunjin starts off again, spent and roughed up on the mattress after going back to back rounds a little less than thirty minutes later. First in the shower and the second on the bed; a restoration to the pecking order, actually on the same page. “She drunkenly confessed to me about it while you were gone one night. Poor girl can’t keep a secret. I felt bad.” 

“Her loss, honestly. Sucks to be her for having the issue.” 

“You don’t think it’s a problem.” 

“Well that depends on your solution.” 

“Well,” says Yunjin, expectant. “I was gonna propose-” 

(You can kind of see where this is going.) 

“-maybe the both of us could- y’know, deal with her as we see fit.” 

“Meaning?” 

“Emulate a porn plot towards her, the typical one where the girlfriend shares with her best friend.” 

You plop on the mattress, tilting your head. 

“Like a collaborative effort?” You’re then asking; the thought not too far-fetched, but still brazenly out of her mind. Even for Yunjin’s standards. “What’s worse is the idea of you sharing me? With Zuha? I swear you were possessive about me, where did that go?” 

Yunjin bends her leg up against yours, brushing a thigh before her knee nestles at your waist. Nothing but smooth, soft skin just there for you to touch, to feel, and just- right on your lap. 

“Consider us sharing. Communal, I guess.” Her brain’s working next to you, then it hits. “A communal cock for the both of us.” She snorts, bursts out laughing once she’s created the twisted hypothesis. “Our cock. Kazuha and I. Please, tell me you’re loving the idea.” 

“I don’t hate it,” you’re stating, hand slipping lower to the swell of her ass. There you go again: thinking about Kazuha and Yunjin together. It’s supposed to be a silly theory. 

“So, will you help me? Unless there’s something I don’t know about.” 

“I’m not really in a position to say no, but I’ll let you do your thing.” 

“Take that as a yes, then,” Yunjin rests a cheek along your chest, prompting you to move your other arm around and fully embrace her, paying no attention to her kneecap pressing up against your balls, “you wouldn’t want to hear my plan to get our girl set up for what’s coming?” 

“You can brief me sometime later.” Another thing added to the agenda, with the rest of the responsibilities filling up your notifications and inbox. “Unless you want to surprise me.” 

Yunjin squints her eyes, purses her lips at you the next second; fingers dancing along your jaw, your throat. “If that’s what you want,” she concurs, retrieving your hand to her hip. “One more for the night?” 

“Don’t blame me if you can’t walk the next morning.” 

And so she gets herself off like that. Your cock in Yunjin’s hand and pressed up against the skin, feel the rush of her pussy lips coating you in slick. Her fingers too dainty and delicate, precise at the touch. You’re alternating from slipping inside her hot cunt - eventually stuck between her impossibly tight thighs crushing the shaft. 

Your throat and hers rumble low, locking legs and letting the hinged hips do their own thing, listening to each other’s nuances of groans and curses and names traded until the overdue exhaustion following the pleasure washes over you two. Yunjin’s face is dazed, relaxed and satisfied with the spill between her legs, her whole body wrapping around you; conserving the heat in any way she can - even if it means to sink your cock back into your cunt. 

You’re hoping the next wet dream you have turns into reality. 

–

A quick look into the inner lens of manifests and proclamations: most of the intents are put in a good light. Speak it into existence and great things will soon come its way - that type of thing. 

When you want something - you’re holding your breath for what’s to happen. 

As for Yunjin, it’s quite the opposite: 

“Imagine all the ideas you could have if you just- let it happen?” She’s on your back and flipping pancakes, breath tickling your ear and putting her down becomes a favorable option than the latter. “Look at it this way, Party A can only take action if the conditions are met in agreement with Party B.” 

“Please allow me to ask, but who the fuck is Party B?” You swivel in place and swing Yunjin’s long legs around the kitchen, the wrap of her arms hooking deeper at your neck. 

“I’m not answering that,” Yunjin says, foot to your thigh and altering your attention to a low-ponytailed Kazuha sitting across, ready and raring to go for her run. 

Kazuha looks dumbfounded, lost, predictable. “What are you guys talking about a Party B?” 

“Huh?” you and Yunjin say in unison. 

“Huh?” Kazuha repeats the utterance. 

Then all three of you say: “What?” Queue the laugh track - somebody, please. 

“Enough of this,” you declare, setting Yunjin down so she can finish cooking the meal. You glance at the glowing screen of your phone, see a few new messages pop up, and a notification from one of the places you applied to. “Crap,” you then say, realizing what’s on the attachment, “It got moved up?! Gotta run.” 

“You too, hm?” Kazuha chides, with an eye smile and a slice of banana in her mouth. “Cute.” 

“Make sure you bring your lunch with you, honey!” Yunjin yells while you blitz back into the bedroom to get changed. “Can’t own the interviews on an empty stomach!” 

–

Various managers you keep in touch with praise your skills and determination, saying that you would be a good fit for the team. It’s a waiting game now; only a matter of time before someone steps forward, claims you as theirs. 

Some places you’re fielding calls from, shortening the list. You’re forwarding it back to home base: hit or miss for today’s adventures, thinking about taking either minnie’s offer or sian’s.

Yunjen 💟: i loooove sian! miss that girl so much (;-;)

Yunjen 💟: pls say yes to her next time, for me? 🥺

🍑: u forgot ur water bottle at home, idiot 🥸

You: great, now i gotta wash it because you touched it

🍑: you’re really bout it today, huh?

🍑: i’m gonna kick your ass when you get back 

You: please, whatever you throw, i’ll catch

Yunjen 💟: aw, i won’t be there to see you school her in mario kart again 😭😭😭

🍑: if i can beat your ass at racing, jennifer, i can def beat him 

🍑: u think too low of me. 

Yunjen 💟: you two play nice now, i’ll be back by dinnerrrr

Yunjen 💟: let me know how it goes 

–

Kazuha greets you at the door, sighing with disappointment, like she owns the place - that’s partly true: she pays for half the rent but always forgets until you remind her. 

“What’s with the look?” you ask flatly. 

“Nothing,” she shrugs, face tugged to a scowl. “Just thought that you’d be back in high spirits after landing the job.” 

“Results don’t come that fast,” you remark, following her in the apartment, feet scruffing and leggings skin tight around her figure. Hair clumped together after being tied for a long period. “They said that they’re gonna do one more week of evaluations and see from there.” 

“Meaning?” 

“I get the job, which means more money; if not, we keep looking.” 

Kazuha chuckles, settling herself on the couch with her legs curled, watches as you drop your things and join soon after. “Is this the part where I ask how your day was like old times?” 

“Zuha, I’m gonna walk right out that door if you do. Please don’t.” 

“Not even this once?” 

You stare at Kazuha’s delighted wink, rolling her eyes back and cringing. “Well shit, my day hasn’t been that interesting either, thanks for asking.” She says, palm sliding down her face with a sheepish smile. “Can’t even have drinks until Yunjin gets back.” 

“What’d you suggest we do for the meantime?” 

Kazuha grabs the controller, treating it like a deck of cards for a party trick. She lifts her eyebrows, tempting. 

“You weren’t kidding.” you say, amazed. 

“Unless you have a better idea,” she drawls, shaking it to double down the offer. “What, too much of a pussy to play me?” 

“You’re on. Give me the other controller.” 

–

Full disclosure aside. 

Moments like these with Kazuha have always been the usual bread and butter for you two to bond over on. With the amount of years carried in between - part of you has imagined what it would be like if the relationship label found its way to you two instead of the opposite. 

(You remember it vividly, the brief period was short lived for a few months after keeping the emotions at bay for a long ass time. Going into high school was the usual phase where the feelings aren’t exactly certain, and eventually change. She could’ve left you out of her life then, but didn’t. Attached wasn’t the right word you or her would say, though, you’re glad she stayed either way.) 

Even after she started to come out of her shell, be talkative, get more active, fit in clothes that make you and every other horny guy on campus drop their jaws at, she’s still the same girl you met back in kindergarten: a true friend at your side going places, while also doing stupid stuff for the fun. 

“This goddamn blue shell, I swear to god-” 

As for you, well- you’ve got tunnel vision, deathly locked to the screen, blocking all outside noise and focusing on the mario character and the amount of asphalt you got on the tires. Kazuha was all up in your ear, talking about how she managed to build a gap after a poor start on your end with the amount of bananas being tossed up track and dropped along the kerbs. She also thought racing at 200cc was a great idea - when in reality she’s only raced nothing above 50cc. 

She’s using every trick in the arsenal: the hand to your face, kicking your side; hell, even covering your end of the screen if it meant being in last place. Her definition of victory was seeing you not succeed. 

All in all, it was a good way to have fun. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” she asks, when she’s fully calmed down and actually playing properly. “That night where you had to pick me up from the kickback,” her body leaning with the steering motion of the kart when the controls were strictly to the joystick. “No one told me I didn’t get hooked up with anybody.” 

“Because you didn’t.” you say tiredly. Explaining the gauntlet she gave you to bring her back home safely. 

You’re finishing first ahead of Kazuha - the girl can’t drive in real life as it is. 

Her legs cross over yours, paying no attention to the spread of her toes and flex of her calves. Heel grazing your crotch before resting along your thigh, fighting the urge to break composure and adjust yourself. “Hmph, that’s a shame. Since you did see me drunk after all-” 

“Happens multiple times than I would like to count,” you’re saying mildly, glancing, “I was also hoping that Sakura would take you home instead of Eunchae calling me.”  

“Is that what happened?” Kazuha asks, and it abrupts your thoughts quickly. “Sorry- I know I asked the morning after but - still don’t remember much.” 

You look away, down to your hips. Your mind and body clearly not in sync. 

Which begs the question: “So, what do you actually remember? From that night?” 

The answer she gives goes in one ear and out the other. Vividly telling you the details. 

“You’re not very slick about me; you know that, right?” Kazuha concedes. And you agree, completely cornered.

“What do you want me to do about it?” 

“Gonna keep talking?” 

“Please, I can do more than just talk.” 

Kazuha bites her lip, pulls her legs back, shakes her head, the intent easy for you to read. There’s a few shared secrets with her you’d like to keep. 

What’s one more thing to hide from Kazuha and Yunjin? 

–

Think of it this way, racing’s got a lot to offer: the thrill, the rush, the risk. Kazuha loves to put you in the dust; always making you chase until you’ve got one over her. She’s screwed you over in other lifetimes - including this one - but, it’s worth noting the exception: a rare occasion where you’re back at the starting line and finishing all the same. 

Kazuha doesn’t look over her shoulder often; disregards the terror she leaves behind without a care, and you ought to remind her where it lands as soon as you can. 

“Jesus christ-” is what leaks out of her lips, biting down another moan in her throat. You cup her chin and force the look up, hands slipping on the glass. “Your fucking cock is just-” 

Amazing? Well, she took the words from Yunjin, and you know.

It’s extravagantly fucked up: turning back time as if it was yesterday - you’re railing her in the shower, warm water falling from above, steam fogging up beneath. 

She sure knows how to make you shut up, just like old times, and a small part of you wishes how things might’ve been different if you or her if you said something back then, but you’ll let your bodies do the talking - her cunt clenching around your shaft, skin rippling the water off with every wet slap in, hand reaching for your thigh for stability. You’re just holding on and having her do most of the work in throwing her ass back, begging you for more, press her against the wall, take your cock like she always does - she may treat you like shit in the most affectionate way possible, but that layer is stripped entirely if her heart and mind allowed it. You’re going to fuck her pretty cunt, make her remember that night where she got herself off with you watching and act like nothing happened despite the raw marks of red on her creamy skin. 

That too, and she’ll be a pain in your ass still: “What’s wrong? Worried Yunjin will walk in on us?” 

“Kind of counting on it,” you relent, and she hunches. You pull her back up and feel her breath hit your chin. “Who knows? Maybe she’d want to join us.” 

“You think so?” Her arms flush with the tile. 

“If you’ve forgotten,” you manage, bracketing her waist - grip hard enough to make her yelp, and you’re loving every second. She’s a brat and a bitch and a slut rolled up into one; someone who has no care for others, except - oh, right; you’ve put up with it long enough. It’s the perfect opposite. “You’re the one who made the first move.” 

“That’s bullshit and we both know it,” she denies, dishonored and deflective, so you drag your hips and push back in, grab her face, watch her jaw go slack. “Oh god. Baby, yes-” 

The water’s streaming down her chest, her abs, spraying off to the walls and glass - you snake your hand to her neck, a muscle memory: everything else is an easy line to follow. 

One of her legs are lifted for you to hook, so that you can reach the familiar angle you’ve lost the feeling for too long, where you’ve made her scream, swear out more obscene stuff. She’s bracing herself along the wall properly when you’ve slid your cock back inside her; she’s groaning a lot louder now, tensing, moaning - you’re supporting her and she’s taking it like you promised, her head bobbing all over the place, mouth canted, skin flushed hot-pink. A smile breaks at the corner of her lips. It’s the easy position, the natural flow of motion, keeping pace, a simple solution to a problem - all of the qualifications applied in different situations. Except, your hands find themselves on the rise of her hips, ass hypnotizing you all over your eyes; she’s leaking on your cock, cunt split open and ready to ruin - and you think you’ve finally won the argument, somewhere hidden past the heavy breathing. 

“Fuck- fuck me. Oh- shit- ah-” spills out, and it’s another win to take in, soaking the moment of bliss - that’s so fucking good, i’ve missed this so much, keep going, yes- right there, harder - she’s lost her mind entirely. 

You shouldn’t be grinning wickedly, but you are - it’s relieving in bend a girl like her to your will who can’t hold herself to the end. 

“The worst kind,” she’s huffing, gasping, mewling, trying so hard to keep her posture up while you work her towards the orgasm she’s been asking for since her feet skimmed over the bulge in your pants, playing it off like nothing terribly as it’s a routine for her. You’re aware that she’s probably touched herself while you and Yunjin fucked throughout the night. The walls around here are thin as it is, and so much for that. 

You don’t let up, fucking her hard and fast, like she wanted - praising you for finally breaking that unspoken rule left behind years ago and promise to keep it on the low. You and her both knew it would happen again eventually. How could you not? Just one little change of impulse and you’re on the one way track to hell. 

(Don’t act like this wasn’t your doing, either.) 

“I don’t hate,” she says, urging, whining and whimpering and you’re dying to hear more of it for her - “please, just- it’s incredible, I fucking love it, this fucking cock- all for me-” 

You grab a handful of her slick hair and yank, watch the arch in her spine rise, the fluttering eyelids and shape of her mouth. Kazuha drops her jaw even lower and winces when you pound her pussy deeper; the imaginary line in your head fades with the steam. She’s clenching tightly around your shaft, and you know that this won’t be a singular occurrence. She’s gonna be coming back for more, becoming addicted, clingy. “You like? S’that feel good?” you’re asking anyway, waiting to hear the same answer. 

You want this to last. Her cunt quivers around your length, clamping. You’ve fucked her through the first orgasm, onto the second or third, neither of you are keeping track - you’re chasing for your own - but there’s a sense of grandeur to this, in addition of the gratification to the reward from watching how astonishlingy you can dick her down and put her back in her place. 

Kazuha’s putting effort where it counts. Says: “Need- I need it- fucking christ, please, do it already-” And - fuck, not in a polite way, but good note for trying. 

Kazuha sobs along with a low huff that’s one of the hottest things you’ve heard from her in a while - a long time - contracting and expanding and clenching around you. Great job, baby. You did a good job keeping up with me. I don’t mind you cumming first. I’d prefer to finish second. Holy shit, you don’t realize how long it’s been since you stepped in the shower, mind focusing on Kazuha and legitimately nothing else. 

“Shh, shh,” you’re saying, a finger to her lips, feel her tongue run against the side of it - and the nod is small, but you’re thinking ahead to what she’ll do next. 

You pull yourself out and slap the tip on her pussy lips, listen closely to the squelch when you slip in again, deeper. You can’t tell if the water on her face is from the shower head or her tears, trickling down as her mouth meets yours. God, her kisses are just like the first ones. 

“Gonna cum again?” you ask, delicately. “You are. Let it out.” 

And Kazuha can breathlessly say yes without the words - she’s cumming, cumming, and wants to show you how badly. You could spend a few more minutes here, conserve the water. Paying the bill and next rounds of games can wait. 

–

There’s no complexity behind it. The sun comes up and the world still spins. 

Some days, Kazuha flutters to you - bare cunt underneath her shirt and you’re catching a second glance. Slaps your ass like every other time and expects you to bring it up later. Which you do. 

Or- 

You’re taking her by surprise, as some lousy excuse to pin her down on the nearest hard surface within reach, perch her hips up to yours until you have to carry her to the shower or bed - only for the mess to come back around again. She tugs the ends of the panties, faintly smacking on her skin, wiggles her perky ass and touches her hair - bundles it up in her hands, her slender back towards you and another spot to deal with some other time. 

“You sure you don't want Yunjin to know?” She asks, snapping you out of your daydream. 

With a quirk of your lips, “Maybe she already knows. But if I speak, I’d be in big trouble.” 

Kazuha tsks. “So wrong for you to leave her out of the fun.” To be fair, she’s more right than wrong. If you were honorable enough to tell the truth, you could’ve told Yunjin to commensurate something with the shared dynamics - albeit way more confusing than it is, because it’s all just for fun, a wacky journey with no destination. 

A rerun of you, fucking Kazuha into puddled pile of pure putty, watch her eyes shimmer when you cum in her mouth, in her hair, paint her pussy with your mess and see her relieved - a deal slipped under the table, unspoken. Yunjin might’ve swapped roles with her in being gullible or oblivious to the signs now - or even back then, you’re not quite convinced. Bottomline: you’ve missed this version of Kazuha. It’s a nice switch up and a way to disconnect and destress from the pressures of the outside world, sheltering and confining yourself since that’s always the best option to have - besides, there’s some work to do still: you got the notice of the final evaluation, from both jobs at the top of your list, somewhat nerve wracking. You’ll have to make a decision, find what fits best for you, which one pays more. Maybe get a second opinion from Yunjin or Kazuha. 

You’ll figure it out as you go along. 

–

When you do ask Yunjin about your little dilemma, part of her attention is on you - at a distance. 

She’s too busy watching Phantom of the Opera after you ate her cunt out while her hourly reading earlier in the day, only because she kept teasing you underneath the desk while on call with the same friend who managed to land a position at their new job. Relax, they’re saying at the time, don’t worry too much and just be ready for what’s to come. 

“Huh? Sorry, ask me again,” Yunjin’s telling you, chin on her shoulder and glances over at you at the kitchen preparing dinner. “The actress’s high note caught me off guard.” 

Kazuha laughs, sitting on the counter and at your side, peeling off lettuce for her salad - proximity minimized to where your hand’s grazing her thigh. “Are you sure Sian’s job is the right one for you?” she asks, rephrasing the question as her own. “I mean, you say you liked the offer from her.” 

“Possibly,” you answer, slicing a carrot, placing the knife down. “She told me she’ll call sometime tomorrow to confirm.” 

“Makes sense,” Yunjin supplies. “Good pay. Office isn’t far, convenient. Also on the fact that she’s pretty to be a manager or in charge? Heavy on the pretty, though.” 

“Right,” you agree, looking at Kazuha, fingers slipping over the rise of her thigh and in. You quirk your eyebrow in suspicion, noticing the lack of underwear (once again) and her folds already soaking. “She really is pretty.” 

Kazuha bites her lip, dips her head down. 

“I think I've made up my mind,” you say, pushing- sliding deeper in, quirk your lip in a ‘shh’ so that Kazuha can keep her voice low. “Might’ve been a pure choice from the start.” 

“You think so?” Yunjin says, puzzled. “That was easy.” 

You and Kazuha both give a confused look at her. Knuckles curled in Kazuha’s walls, inconspicuous and hidden - a familiar reflex and motion of the hand. She’s so slick for you, it’s unfathomable. A whimper rumbles within her chest, and you cough loudly to cover the sound. 

Yunjin glances over for a third time. “Everything okay there?” 

Kazuha sniffles, seamlessly playing along without a proper cue. “The onions,” you’re saying, sheepishly grinning like a dumbass. “Zuha got the first wave of them.” To that, Yunjin laughs, wiggling her head the other direction. “Should’ve been helping me over here instead.” 

“I would,” replies Yunjin, waving her hand up in the air. “But my legs have lost their feeling. Wonder whose fault is that.” 

You shrug your shoulders and carry on your work at the counter. 

–

You’re fielding calls from the shortlist, waiting for one contact. 

Then the phone rings. 

Greetings are exchanged and it’s right down to business: “Drop by the office later. It’ll be brief, I promise. Just checking in one last time on how you feel about the offer.” Sian’s telling you. “Apologies for making you wait.” 

“Nonsense,” you’re beaming, swiping through your belongings and whatever you can fill in your hand. “Wasn’t doing much besides keeping myself busy.” 

Soon you’re on the way out of the door, noticing a box next to your shoes. You don’t remember ordering anything in the past few days, so that theory is eliminated automatically. Yunjin’s made her way to see you off, arms crossed and partially excited. 

You pull your phone away, pointing to the package. You’re mouthing the curiosity, and Yunjin nods. There’s not much to assume: it’s probably a new batch of books for her to read, or some clothes. You don’t suspect much.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be on my way now. See you soon.” 

–

(The interview goes exactly as Sian said it would. 

She’s telling you about the perks about the office and benefits within the first few months. They’re all really good, you can’t deny that. Not to mention the signing bonus. You can’t stop smiling at the new opportunity, ecstatic for what’s in store. 

You’re driving home later and feel like the sun’s burning a little bit brighter than usual - clouds filling up the endless blue sky. 

An attempt is made to call Yunjin, but no answer. You try Kazuha too, no luck. 

There’s the simple assumption that they’re both busy and they’ll see the missed calls before you get back.

A cleared schedule opens up a lot of things.) 

–

Everything seems a lot easier when there isn’t a weight on your shoulders, relieved of stress and the only current worry is hobbling back to your bed and sleeping there for the rest of the day. You click the deadbolt out of place and swing the door open, letting yourself in. “I’m home,” you’re calling out, slipping out of your shoes and the bag gets placed next to the small table where the keys go. “Genuinely thought it was going to take longer-” 

You freeze your movements when you hear the spill of moans close by. 

Because you peek the corner like a kid waiting for Santa Claus - but instead of seeing a red man placing gifts and stealing milk and cookies, you see Kazuha leaning back on the kitchen counter, sitting on the chair with someone else on top of her, leaving fresh marks it could be mistaken of her being bitten from a vampire - the person on top presses her hips up, diving down to her neck, pushing and yanking before you realize she’s getting fucked by- 

“Yunjin, what the fuck!?” you exclaim. 

Yunjin rests her head on Kazuha’s chest, fingers clasping to her shoulder - you’ve seen that wicked look on her face before, devilish and corrupt. Now, in your place: it’s Kazuha pulling her close, tilting her head back when Yunjin shifts her hips up between Kazuha’s legs, dragging out another moan. 

“Welp, I guess we got caught,” says Yunjin, and her strap-on slips out of Kazuha in one simple pull. 

Clearly, you’re confused, bamboozled. Yunjin’s coming back to her senses as she swipes a hair behind her ear, playing the innocent role poorly and none of it makes sense, at all. Your girlfriend and roommate - roommate and girlfriend, and you start to remember- 

“Thought I said that I wasn’t finished,” Kazuha sputters, oblivious of your presence. She’s sitting back up on the chair and clinging to the edge of the counter. “You told me that I’ll have my turn with the strap when you’re done - we barely started.” She’s hitting Yunjin’s arm, hair falling over and panting erratically. “Yunjin, please-” 

“Zuha,” Yunjin taps Kazuha’s shoulder, flicks a finger towards you - authoritative and calm. “I think we have other things to worry about. Also hey hi, I didn’t hear the door open or you walk in.” 

“Well I did,” you say, walking further inside and assessing the scene. Kazuha then sees you in her view and her jaw drops, both shocked and disappointed. “Didn’t want to interrupt your fun little session going on here.” 

“She knows about-” Kazuha tries to speak, covered by Yunjin’s hand, and stops her sentence. 

“You? Us?” you ask. 

“Should’ve told me sooner,” Yunjin butts in, unimpressed with a smirk. “I didn’t expect you’d have a headstart with my suggestion.” 

“Guilty as charged.” 

“Mmfph,” Kazuha tries to say, but the press of Yunjin’s hand is a lot more firm. She’s lost her talking privileges for now. This wasn’t even the worst bit of this incident, you think. 

You’re sighing, undecided, at a crossroads: two girls on your shoulders with very similar,  contrasting perspectives and ideals. Yunjin’s the purest of angels in human form, Kazuha the devil’s advocate living in your house. The thought of you being walked in by Kazuha with Yunjin on your cock was a thing of the past. With Yunjin’s strap filling up Kazuha- 

“How do you suppose we deal with her?” You’re asking, playing into the role of second fiddle to Yunjin’s wishes, wherever she wants to take them, burying your nose into her hair and looking down at Kazuha’s eyes light up in excitement. 

“I think you can help me with that,” declares Yunjin, and for the thousandth time it’s something you’re following through. “Give this girl a proper work up for once.” 

“With pleasure.” 

“But first-” 

“First?” 

Kazuha’s body tenses. “Mmrph??” 

Yunjin’s head dips, licking her lips. Her fingers tap the fabric of your crotch. “Not yet,” she sighs, and she’s teasing the pink head of plastic on Kazuha’s folds. “Actually,” Yunjin’s hearty laugh gives you an idea where this is going, and it’s not looking pretty. “We’re gonna have you watch.” 

–

Where do you even begin with these two? That’s the golden question. 

Think of it this way, a coming of age story would have all the highs and the lows, a sunset drive into the horizon with the top down and music blasting for everyone else to hear, romanticizing both the achievements and shortcomings of each character, tossing snacks to each other and clinking glasses while letting the end credits roll. 

Kazuha and Yunjin, however, lock lips at the couch; you’re breathing deep - you’re slipping down the chair, not quite shameful that you’re not in the act. 

Maybe it’s the fantasy written up in your head - in its purest form and in real time. The ambiance settling down to a space meant to be locked away; shelved behind a drawer and door, never to be seen in the light of day, exclusively for your eyes only. 

Yunjin tilts her head one side with Kazuha on the other, playing along well. Everything about it is down to the last vivid detail: her fingers carding into her hair, gripping, pulling her head up so Kazuha can get more air - slip an arm underneath the arching back and bring her leg up against her heat. You give Yunjin a look when she locks eyes with you, paying no attention to Kazuha peppering her cheek with more kisses and clearly asking for more, giggling as she indulges her request. Their hands trailing all over their unclad bodies, miles of skin between them. They both sigh in relief, finally showing what they cherished the most with each other. There’s no regrets of your actions: you’ve got a piece of Yunjin - what she’s like, same for Kazuha from another period lost to time, but it’s all culminated to this. Soon you’re towering the pair and see the crimson and sweat spread across, willing to have your fill be satisfied by both.

If your sympathy was a knife, you’d turn the blade around and twist it inside yourself. 

Kazuha’s hand grips the belt loop, grinning. Yunjin tugs your hand to her face, kissing it. Wraps her plump pretty lips on your thumb. An unspoken testament of what’s to come. The credence of raw, unfiltered, sin. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Yunjin asks, very silently. Kazuha opens her neck up as an invitation. 

“Oh,” you breathe, softly. Kneeling down at the couch and exchanging glances. “You have no idea.” 

(Show me everything. Show us everything, they said, partially devious. How bad your impurities are. We want it all. We deserve it all.) 

–

Maybe all of this was the long-awaited culmination; Kazuha’s mind is so far gone, back pinned against the wall like she knows you and Yunjin are about to ruin every part of her body. Clothes are being slipped off your frame, pooling onto the floor and soon to be ignored till the next morning. Yunjin’s hands graze your middle, feeling the hardened muscle - sighing into your neck and flashes a look across. 

“Should I know how long you two kept this from me?” she asks, half-curious. Well aware of the answer. 

You keep your gaze on Kazuha while pulling your head back - observing, but flicking your eyes back and forth. “Would it be best to hear it from the person responsible?” you say, seeing Kazuha’s face shift from her to yours and unsure who to choose. 

“Figured there were signs,” Kazuha answers, lifting her leg up at the crease of her knee, giving an implication. It’s not a pressure point - not yet, at least - an angle where you can jump in and double down on. “If they weren’t obvious enough.” 

“Are we seriously playing dumb here?” Yunjin then follows up, twisting her head. “Right now? Of all times?” 

“Choose your words wisely,” you’re saying, towering over the girl in your arms - a subtle warning. 

“You’ll be a good girl, yes?” Yunjin adds. “Then we’ll see if you deserve it.” 

Kazuha snickers, sound bouncing off the hallway, and you and Yunjin both sigh in dejection - though, Yunjin slaps Kazuha’s thigh, prompting you to pin her lower half to the drywall. “I see we’re at a bad start already,” she’s saying, and her arm slithers up to your chest, “you keep acting like this, Zuha, we’re gonna have some issues. Not to mention,” she’s rambling, taking a step back to open the space in flipping Kazuha around with her back in view, arms up instinctually and hips moving back, Yunjin’s arms crossed over her chest with the strap-on in her hand, instigating. “I think it’s best if he takes the first crack in breaking you.” 

“How generous,” you tell her, leaning down to kiss the fine line of Kazuha’s spine. “I thought you’d be more cruel.” 

Yunjin grins, finger to her teeth. “That’s more of your thing rather than mine.” 

“Liar,” you growl, and it’s a small reveal of your true intent, bringing them close and never letting go - your arm pulls Yunjin back in, gasping at the sudden move. Yunjin giggles, teetering into a small moan; you look down and she takes the hint in feeling Kazuha’s ass, listening to the hitched breaths, see the slightest scrunch of her shoulder. “Don’t think that you can hide away from me, either,” And you slap your hand firmly on the fresh skin, Kazuha slipping out a yelp in response - “I know you want your fun as well, baby.” Your thumb and index pinch both of her cheeks, squishing. “Unless you’d prefer to watch.” 

“You know me. I’ll have my go if you’re willing.” 

“I’m still down here,” interrupts Kazuha. “Why don’t you-” 

Here was the perfect time to show Kazuha again what you’re made of - you grip both of your hands to the swell of her hips, pushing them up until all of her chest is flush with the wall in front - her hand flies back to yours; clawing the skin on your arm, your hips- 

“Watch it,” you snarl, grabbing her wrist and putting it along the small of her back, hoping to break the tension. Technically, she’s doing the opposite. 

She squirms in your hands for a few more seconds, resisting. The grunts coming out of her mouth don’t apply to you; Kazuha’s feet skating across the floor, widening the stance, spilling out pleas- 

“Fucking swear to God,” she harshly swears, and you’re with her; Yunjin’s taking another step back, leaning. She can’t help but smile at the authority, the general hierarchy you’re used to giving her. Throwing out orders and demands - Kazuha with her insightful snarks, nowhere to be heard or seen as she’s finally getting a taste of her own medicine- 

Both of Kazuha’s arms are behind her back. She’s helpless once you’ve finally got a hold on her. 

“How long is it gonna take you to fuck me or force me to watch you fuck Yunjin instead?” she whines, persistent. Her hands cup the sides of your hips, pushing her ass back - you don’t fight it, laser focused on her face. “Didn’t realize that we’re dishing out my punishment like this right off the bat.” 

“We’re getting there,” you agree, and you’re palming her breast beneath the shirt, clumping up the fabric - thumbing a nipple and pinching. “Yunjin will have her fun too when I’m done with you.” 

You look right at Yunjin and she nods. 

She’s keeping herself occupied with the strap-on in her hand, putting her pouty lips on the silicone tip, licking shamelessly and her other hand to her legs - cheeks flushed in a hot pink and eyes trained on you. You’d expect her to watch - let her have her own fun in the meantime. She’s so good; fucking you and Kazuha both, though it’s somewhat on par or incomparable to the roughing up you’re gonna do to Kazuha as a means of staying true to your word. Her tongue laves the side of plastic, lowers it down to her hips, hoping to tease and have that ache sated until her turn comes along to be taken, fucked mercissely, ruthlessly.

You lift a brow for the final confirmation, and Yunjin matches it. 

“You can watch of course, baby,” you say, and Yunjin’s face lights up. “Go ahead, do what you need to do.” 

Yunjin twists her back to the wall, head tilted while her legs spread wider to welcome the space of the strap-on between her legs - you’ve curled your arm around Kauzha’s hip, rub her clit from that angle, stroking slowly at her leaking slit; so yeah, this girl leaks sex. As for you: you’re eating it up. Knowing that there’s another pair of eyes on you, greedily staring once you get on one knee, place a trail of kisses to the backside of Kazuha’s thigh, bundle up the oversized shirt in your hands. You hook your palms to the fold of her legs, brush your nose in her cunt, taste the droplets on your tongue- 

“Are we observing?” You ask Yunjin. “Not the first time I’ve seen you use a dildo in front of me.” Your mouth sucks in the dripping slick of Kazuha’s pussy, earns you a sharp inhale through her teeth. Biting down on one of her folds and pulling. “I wanna see you ruined before I have the chance myself.” 

Your gaze shifts back to Kazuha because you know Yunjin will follow whatever you say. Even when your cock is brushing up against Kazuha’s slit, pushing in her pussy and the girl sings a broken note. 

Kazuha, by instinct, tilts her head down, overwhelmed, choking on the bob in her throat; all it takes is one firm snap of your hips in and it’s not enough time to get accustomed to the stretch - that deep, open stretch, her cunt pressuring you so tight, addicting - you’re amazed at how she can pick up things quickly, breathing steadily with every stroke, see her eyes at the corners, upping the intensity, twisting her head back forcefully and curve the arch a bit more deeper- 

A makeshift ponytail is created without a second thought, locking the stare in and keeping it frozen, failing to maintain composure when she’s moments away from finally breaking in front of you, or Yunjin. Kazuha’s pride is always one thing she holds close. Snuff it out of her and there’s nothing, and she can’t deny it: the way that she’s trying so hard to not be a completely needy, slutty bitch. 

“What’s wrong, huh?” you’re taunting - imitating her snark - man, it’s so nice not to be on the receiving end in one of those. “Wasn’t this the punishment you asked for? Well guess what?” You’re grasping at her cheek that it brushes yours. “It’s here, Zuha. Just me, you, Yunjin, and your dirty little cunt, all for us to have.” 

“All talk, still,” Kazuha remarks, syllables barely stable. She’s so shrunk down over your presence that when your cock is in play, it splits her body in two, crumbling her: she can spit out words for days, but knows that she’s vulnerable in a fight. “You’re not even putting effort into me. Fucking christ- asshole. Just-” 

You can’t help but chuckle - actually laugh, because the insults don’t hurt like they used to back then, that added layer in the dynamic where you’ll take the punch and send it right back. You’re slamming your hips in, press your fingers into her hip; Kazuha can keep giving you shit, but you see her head hit the drywall, eyes lidded and mouth quirked to keep it all in. There’s no point - she’s gushing on your cock, clamping. 

“Just what?” You yank her hips out and in, make her yelp at the change in pace. “Stop? Keep going? I can’t tell what you’re asking for and neither can Yunjin.” Yunjin herself lets out a breathy sigh - the strap-on’s worked well inside her cunt, matching the strokes as best she can; at this point, you’re just waiting for her to squirt on the floor. “Could’ve sworn you were greedy a few days ago when I fucked you in the back of the car, don’t lie to me.” 

“Maybe.” You slide in - genuinely fucking her. Kazuha tries to let it go casually the way you’re cock’s tearing inside her - you’ll give her the ‘A’ for attempting. That feeling can’t be ignored - she’s close, rising within - it’s in the lines of her face, her body, it’s showing. “Fuck - that’s not the point. I couldn’t be more desperate for your cock unlike Yunjin.” 

She’s not saying it for Yunjin’s sake, but also for her own: smiling through the pleasure despite her body nearly shutting down and breaking on your cock. All that ego, that bullshit given all these years, it’s all gone in an instant. It was a pipe dream to fuck the boldness out of her - you’ll come close, but not close enough. You’ll fuck her truly in the way that she wants - and the glint over her shoulder pierces through your eyes. Do your worst, you imagine her saying. I’d love to see you try. 

So, you’ll give exactly the worst thing to her. You’ll make her cum on your cock. 

You let go of her face, grab her tit before sliding down to her pussy. “Look at you,” you tell her, matching the smirk she gave you on the couch the other day, recalling, “nowhere to go.” 

Kazuha parts her mouth, ready to dart back with a witty response - or tries to - rocked with her high so intense that it’s bubbling in her throat, on her tongue. She’s there, thanks to you; Yunjin’s honoring your request, wincing, sliding that silicone cock inside- 

She’s up next, you’re not forgetting. You take Kazuha - all the way in, past her orgasm, let her shoulders go slack, breath in thin wisps, hand losing grip and slipping from your sweat, and you’re grinding your cock deep in her - all the way down to the base, where the blowback of your balls tapping her clit, prolongs the feeling - a new sensation; fuck, she feels so fucking good- 

“How do we deal this out, you suppose?” You ask Yunjin, breathless, head held high, breaking your gaze and towards your girlfriend. “Should I carry on what I’m doing?” Kazuha whimpers when you’re massaging her ass, slowly driving your cock back in, softening the blow. “Do whatever our little slut wishes?” 

You and Kazuha both glance at Yunjin together, slick dripping down her thighs, small threads plastered on your hips, and Yunjin slides the strap-on out of her like it’s a restraint. Kazuha slides off your cock, leans back to your embrace, legs quivering - you gave her a lot to handle, that’s for sure. But you’re not done yet. Not until Yunjin’s got her chance. 

Yunjin herself is treated to such a sight, cum soaked on the plastic in her hand, but when you sweep her close she’s already falling: like she knows you’ll catch her whenever and doesn’t have to worry about a damn thing. You’re eying her eyes, those plump pretty lips, her long legs rivaling Kazuha’s, her leaking cunt - she’s shifting in your arm, like one look sends sparkles in her eyes. She’s waiting, patiently - lets you do anything to her without saying a single word. 

“Enjoyed the show, love?” You’re scratching the sweet spot behind her head and her neck relaxes. It’s those earthy eyes you can’t get enough of, love drunk and over her head with her switch flipped - hot and crazy in love she’ll want everything. “How does it feel seeing lovely little Zuha finally get humbled?” 

“I’ll literally cut your dick off if you don’t shut your fucking mouth,” retorts Kazuha, twisting her neck so she could face you. No matter how much of a pain in the ass she is while getting fucked, she’ll own that role close to her heart. 

Yunjin flashes a smile, and you smile back. Coming to a consensus. “Not enough for her, sadly.” 

Kazuha takes advantage for once, hurling your body against the hallway now, and making you shuffle back past the open door to the room. Yunjin fails at the mediary with her chin on her shoulder, pushing her weight so that the ratio is two-to-one. Both of their eyes are insane, glittering crystals and with a primal ferocity behind them - holy fuck, is it sexy, moments away from victory. Backing you into a corner where there’s no opening for escape. 

“Make you eat your fucking words out,” Kazuha says, voice unfazed when she just came on your cock a few minutes ago, “Better hope you won’t get the chance again.” 

“Careful Zuha,” Yunjin butts in, hoping to alleviate the tenacious threat. “You wouldn’t want to get on his bad side again.” 

“What she said,” you remark - leaving it at that for now. 

“Okay then,” Kazuha tuts, grabbing your face for a kiss, clawing your hair, soothing it. “I’m tagging Jen Jen in.” 

With that, Yunjin pushes Kazuha off to the foot of the bed and topples over you, claiming her prize. 

There’s a passing of the torch in the form of the strap-on - Kazuha takes it and wiggles on the bed - while you’re wrestling for control with Yunjin, grasping her waist and flipping her over so that she’s under, fingers in familiar spots where you’ve left marks and bruises before - ready to it again. “Guess you’re up,” you mumble - feeling the knuckles of Yunjin’s hand on your face before she fiddles with the cuff of your ear, pinching. You’re surveying the planes of her body, targeting the areas where it’ll hurt. “You could never have enough of my cock as it is.” 

An instant curveball when you slap her inner thigh twice, flip her over and slap her ass, then roll back to her cunt. 

Yunjin shrieks - Kazuha inhales deep at the sound when she pushes the strap-on in her cunt. You smack again, put your mouth to hers and funnel the noise down your neck. This was new to the script, and you’re certain it’ll stay. 

There’s no other pretense to act on, and you bury your cock inside her cunt. 

She is fucking dripping; given the mewls and moans petering out of her mouth, your ears focus on the sweet sound of slick as her pussy takes all of you, stretching and sliding in the ways you made her break, the noises heavenly, a symphony alone as you get back into true pace - you’re fucking her cunt so hard that it’s almost snapping her spine in half, or make her lose the feeling in her legs. Ah, you’re just treating yourself - possibly. Kazuha’s fucking herself right next to you two and has a front row seat of the one in many acts about to unfold- 

Her pussy is incredible - that’s just the jist of it, the meaning already written to existence long before you came along, Yunjin’s just huffing along, the size too grand to bear- 

“Good?” You know for damn sure it’s good. Her neck is a nice place for your hand to rest, siphoning the remaining air trapped in her lungs. The last gasp for more, taken away. “Yeah, you know it’s good. Same kind of sluttiness I expected with Kazuha. What would I ever do without you - getting off with your cunt and fucking you as I please. God, baby- it’s so fucking tight down there, I could never-” 

You’re left speechless when you abruptly pull out, slap your cockhead along her clit and she’s gushing everywhere, spraying the sheets, squirting in mere seconds. Kazuha drops her jaw in shock, ecstatic, amazed- 

“Kazuha’s in her own world, and she’s living in it,” You snap your hips, yank her body, sending another aftershock - your hands will never leave. “It shouldn’t be this easy, babe - the way that you’re just one, insufferable, cocktease-” 

Yunjin crunches her eyes, and her lower half subconsciously rolls with yours. She’s one to have her moment, but the way that she’s just taking it - so fucking well- 

“This strap couldn’t fill her enough,” Kazuha chides. And that’s the daunting realization - it’s one thing to keep things mundane, by the book, but this: the degrading, the power going to your head, the advantages you seized for yourself, you’re speaking listless shit and giving less of a fuck for your own benefit. “Now you got a taste of your own medicine, honey. All that talk about having all of him when he clearly has sights for others. Now he’s got me to deal with if you’re not around; and look at him, he’s really greedy. 

Yunjin’s sobbing, tears seeping at the corners. You’re close - everything in your body expanding and rushing to the peak - but her scared expression makes you think otherwise, spares a second thought. 

“Do you believe that, sweetheart?” You grit, releasing your grip around her throat, leaning for a kiss and it brings her back to life. “Tell us how it feels.” 

Kazuha’s scooting closer, the silicon impaled deep in her cunt, tapping her clit at a fast pace. She’s conservative, yet so smug that it’s rubbing on Yunjin instead, the build up is there, voices rising, crescendoing- 

“It’s so good, so- fuck, so fucking good,” she spits, mouth trembling and the rest of the words are in tongues - and you’re sure that you’ve broke her once again. “I love this cock so much - I can’t even begin to describe how well it fucks me, taking me just to dump your cum, come back for more - please, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop-” 

On instinct, she taps your thigh. A signal to let you know she has a different play in mind. 

You snap your gaze back to Kazuha and she immediately takes the hint, a wicked grin spread on her lips to sell the implied message. 

From there it’s a simple one-two, a bait and switch. You slide out of Yunjin’s well fucked cunt and swoop Kazuha’s legs, pulling her over to you while Yunjin staggers back on the bed, taking the strap-on tossed to her so she can simmer down the aching heat engulfing her stomach. You don’t even register the quick inhale Kazuha does when you seamlessly slip back inside her waiting cunt and pick up right where you left off with her - and the screams level with the incessant slaps of skin on skin. 

“Back for more, are you?” Kazuha grunts, sucking in her gut from the pull on her shoulders and into your cock. “Such a shameless boy.” 

“Shut your fucking mouth, whore.” You’re bearing no mind to the word sputtered out. The only thing in your head is taking your roommate’s pussy and making it yours. Nothing more, nothing less. “Gonna ruin this cunt now.” 

“Hold still and look pretty,” demands Yunjin, and she’s on Kazuha’s side, strap-drunk as Kazuha’s head tips back and slides her hand down her abs to her cunt, watching you fuck and fuck and fuck into Kazuha - wrecked and full of your cock, like you needed this to relieve the stress out your body, and Yunjin’s face twists to something more evil, twisted, witnessing a prophecy come to fruition- 

“Look at our cute cocksleeve go.” Yunjin’s fingers tap your forearm, nails clawing curves into your skin - the sting going unnoticed as the thrusts keep moving - another sense acquired, you’re sweating, overheating. “I’m sure he came in you already, and guess what? He’s gonna ruin your tight cunt and fill you up to the brim - when we’re done with you, you’re gonna have to be carried around the house-” 

Kazuha cries and cums on your waist - Yunjin sits up, fingers fast to the crease of her legs, surprised and seeing it all unfold. As for you, you’re tensing, gritting teeth together, cumming inside her cunt, the release sought after now tumbling in true bliss- 

“Oh, no. We can’t have you be that loud now.” 

Yunjin waddles over on her knees to Kazuha’s head, angles her head, and pushes the plastic cock between her lips, smothering with her own spit - see the bob form in her throat when she takes it halfway in. 

You’re still going, pulling out and sliding your tip across her folds, soaked in white and convinced that there’s more for you to offer. The strokes are consistent, long enough for another minute or so until you’re spilling a second load in her walls, pumping her full. 

“God, fucking- Jesus. Kazuha-” 

“Mmfrjmph,” she’s got herself full of other things to worry about than your leaking cum in her pussy. 

“Jen, switch.” You give the order and your girlfriend drags her hips away from Kazuha’s face. From the second you pull your cock out, white strips start to drip onto the sheets. Your mind’s barely there, putting every fiber of muscle from the nerves to get you at the headboard of the bed and settle into a comfortable position - and Yunjin flips Kazuha over, hooks her hands to her hips, dragging it towards her crotch, she managed to get the strap-on in time, pointing the length to her cunt, picking up small ribbons at the tip. 

“Think she needs a little clean up before you have your fun,” you suggest, fingers buried deep into the threads of Kazuha’s hair and forming it into a lazy bun, ignoring the little ‘ah’ from her lips and focusing her head on your softening cock. “Unless you’re gonna jump right in and get sloppy.” 

“You’ve made my point beautifully,” Yunjin agrees, lowering her head and raising Kazuha’s hips up so she can get the taste of both, pushing her back down and deepening the arch with a lick of her lips. “You taste good.” 

“Are you saying that to me? Or Zuha?” 

“Whatever answer you like.” 

Kazuha, as always, refuses to pay attention. Rather- her attention is drawn back to your cock, tongue sweeping the underside, your head falling back and hitting the wood behind, feeling her mouth lap up the mess of your cum slicked cock and slide your hips deeper into the mattress. This is heaven for her, for Yunjin too. A truce made once the damage has been done- 

“Don’t go too hard on Zuha, she’s been through a lot.” you tell her, but it’s more of a blessing in disguise when you and Yunjin are on the same page in most cases. A girl like Kazuha on her hands and knees, a collective effort fulfilled. 

Yunjin cackles and there’s no further meaning there, the tone sweet, syrupy - you could get drunk on it every single time her face brightens up. She’s leaning over to kiss you, arms wobbling in support so that she doesn’t fall on top of Kazuha, and it’s happened before. “Aw, well that’s too bad. I was gonna give her that and nothing else,” she tells you, smacking her lips off of you. Her hands rest at the swell of Kazuha’s waist, kneading and slapping lightly as a light tease. “You think I can’t hold my own.” 

You’re seeing a warble in the room somewhere - on Yunjin. The outer line of her stature warps in your vision - hot, messy, maliciously - jerking Kazuha’s hips back and brushes her hips to her ass.” 

“Yunjin, fuck- holy shit-” 

Kazuha gasps, smiling. The babbles are complete gibberish, filthy - Yunjin’s ramming her strap inside her ass, cum being pushed well into Kazuha’s womb, poking a little bump in her stomach, speeding up the motion and clawing wherever she can. Kazuha swallows up your cock, brushing the head at the top of her throat, humming - the vibrations bringing you back to life- 

“She’s built for taking pain,” Yunjin assesses, experimental. She has no regard for her best friend - and you see the whites in Kazuha’s eyes roll back, her lips sealed at the base and understands where she lies between you two. It’s where she’s meant to be, it seems. You could drop witty drawls and creative comebacks; when it comes to fucking her, neither of you expected her to this soaked. “What a slut. Not even a proper dick-down and spanking can’t shut you up.” 

Kazuha’s slurps mesh with the words. “I - mmrfph - fine, I swear. Okay-” 

It’s somewhat comprehending to have her like this, split in two and mouth full of your cock. “Yeah, she’s good. Kazuha- Kazuha, baby.” 

There’s nothing better than this. 

Kazuha getting her hole fucked, sucking you dry. 

She sucks. 

And sucks. 

“If there’s anything that we’ve learned,” Yunjin says mid-thrust, pointing Kazuha’s leg up to the ceiling, deepening the angle, “We both can fuck her brains to mush if we wanted to. Any time in the day, just pull her aside and tell her what to do. What do ya think?” 

You’re nodding, stuttering. Kazuha’s mouth has you speechless. “I have no objections,” you barely say, thighs tensing and shaking. “Yunjin, I’m gonna cum in her mouth.” 

“Then go ahead,” Yunjin tells you, and you do. Kazuha cheeks puff up at the eruption, streams of white leaking at the corners, satisfied. 

Yunjin gives one more good thrust for measure, slides the strap-on out of her fucked cunt, exhaustion collapsing her body, pleased and content with her end of the bargain - the strap-on gets tossed off the bed and onto the floor, made well with its use and disregarded. 

She rolls over to your side soon after, glancing. Kazuha’s face clearly spent and drifting off to sleep. For the time being. 

–

“We might’ve killed her,” you tell Yunjin peepingyour head past the door frame to see Kazuha’s unmoving body on the bed, “Is it worth checking if she’s breathing?” 

There’s the last remnants of what unfolded hours ago, the quick debrief - that kind of thing. You’ve got your head full of mixed emotions; each one of them occurring in passing seconds: happiness, satisfaction, remorse - unsure and nervous, kind of, it’s been a long night anyway. 

(She’ll wake up in the morning and feel sore. But if her first words of the day are related to bearing you, that’s a clear sign she’s back to normal.) 

“Kazuha’s a good catch,” Yunjin says. “If anything, she’ll complain about her thighs being tight.” 

“In relation to her pilates?” You flip the cup over and let the water flow into the drain. Yunjin’s patting your face with a damp towel. “Or the sex?” 

“Both,” and she smiles. You purse your lips in agreement. “Gotta say, I didn’t expect you to match her energy well.” 

“How could I not? C’mon, the girl was asking for it.” You laugh dryly. 

“Point taken,” Yunjin concedes and opens her limbs to let you in the middle, wrap them around and embrace you fully. Her borrowed shirt crumpling in, folding and forming creases alike. “You’re too good at this.” 

You give her a fond grin. “Wanna tell me that again?” 

“No.”

“No?” 

To suffice, she slots her lips to yours, leans back and taps the bathroom mirror. “Okay, it’s past our bedtime already.” 

You find yourself slipping through the chestnut pools and the titian waves - an endless valley to get lost in, the light radiating perfectly to where it highlights and complements the shades well. You’ve said a lot of things to her, more than you can probably count. 

“Love us,” you’re proclaiming, preaching to the open air. Her dragged grin pulls you deeper, and you spot the scrunch at the bridge of her brows: she couldn’t agree more. Then it reverts back to normal: “lose the shirt, we’ll share the body heat under the sheets.” 

–

The first day with drastic changes beckoning are scary.

This is nothing new.

Starting from scratch, conceptually, is always a new brush of inspiration, no matter what the event is. Luckily, it’s reassuring that you’re not facing these new horizons alone. With a guy like you, that has wonderful people in your corner - willing to support any endeavor you indulge in, it’s empowering. You’re convinced that the clouds part in the sky for the sun to fill the endless canvas of blue and you feel that whatever’s manifested in your mind will eventually come true. 

You have the same old pattern with Yunjin: take her out somewhere nice every now and then, waste your time doing nothing on some days, hold her heels or bag without her asking, let her treat you well whenever she feels like it. You share the usual banter, fuck her if things get boring, give her a lot of things to deal with that she’ll brush off later. 

With Kazuha, it’s a dice roll: 

She still spits out shit to you with no reason, and you return the favor and fuck her till she begs for more, gets into petty arguments until she comes walking back without saying a word, unable to take compliments, rambles endless fantasies waiting to be fulfilled more than just once. And you accept that she won’t let you off easily. 

When the two of them are together, sitting across from you or on their knees; backs on the bed or one eating out the other's cunt, it’s a place of a guaranteed connection; one that’s massively fucked up and with a million ways to go about with the pair. You and Yunjin know this - and between the three of you, it remains unsaid. 

“Got everything?” Yunjin asks, handing your trusted tumbler and ruffling up your hair, dusting off your windbreaker like a mom seeing off their child for school. “Expecting a slow day, aren’t you?” 

“You know me,” you drawl, grinning. “I’d much rather waste my time here and get paid for it.” 

The back of your head nicks forward as a response from behind, looking past your shoulder to see Kazuha tilt her head in view, getting a closer look of your appearance and drawing up her own assessment. “Until one of us get another job, it seems like you’re the main breadwinner of the household.” 

“Zuha, him and I were expecting your half of the rent for this month,” says Yunjin, hand to her hip and pouting, “Wanna tell us where the fuck it is?” 

Kazuha sashays herself next to Yunjin, inciting a staredown that ends after two seconds, shaking her head and dodging the question entirely. “Don’t worry about it. But I have the money, I swear.” 

“And what if you don’t have it when he comes back?” Yunjin asks Kazuha, rolling her eyes before shifting her gaze back to normal, “Then what?” 

You’re making your way out as the two continue with the quick argument, disregarding their attention. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll be heading out now.” 

“Can I fuck her again while you’re gone?’ Yunjin then asks, shouldering her weight to Kazuha. “At least until-” 

You sigh. 

“I’d like to ask the same question, but do it on Yunjin,” Kazuha replies. 

(It’s a lot on your plate with Yunjin. Sure. Kazuha’s added herself to the mix - and it’s a tad bit more complicated. Maybe worse. Fuck all you know: you like them both.) 

“I’ll handle you two later,” you’re telling the pair, and they know you mean every word - a promise. “Feel free to get started.” After, you see yourself out the door. 

[illbegottenfaith]

stuck with u

you get stuck in the Room of Requirement with a not-so-distant acquaintance and realise there's no where else you'd rather be (theo nott x reader)

all this loving you, hating you, wanting you...

a/n - ahh my first entry for hogmarch! I can't believe I'm finally writing a trope I used to devourrr as a (younger) teen and although 'stuck' tropes aren't my absolute favourites I like that I went for a little unconventional take on it :D I decided to blend the week 1 & 2 themes since im wayyy past the week 1 timeframe oops (midterms...) anyways this was so so fun to write cuz even 5 years on I love love loveee stuck with u ARGHH its so good so enjoy :)))

tropes/warnings - mutual pining, friends-ish to lovers, fluff, happy ending <3

word count - 2.5k

taglist - @allie-sturns @hzdhrtss @friedfreyfries @bushnellswife @rose-of-the-grave @thaliashifts @pariahsparadise @babene-e @fratbrochrisgf

You’d never been one to stick around - not when it came to people.

You had friends. Plenty of them, in fact. You’re easy to get along with, know how to fill the silences with laughter. But close friendships - the kind where you let them actually know you, the kind where you let them in, let them see something real - those have been few and far between.

It wasn’t that you were afraid of people. You just didn’t trust easily.

Most friendships, to you, felt temporary. People drift in and out of each other’s lives all the time, and you’d never seen much use in pretending otherwise. You kept things surface-level, just enough to be friendly. But the moment someone gets too close, asking questions you don’t want to answer, you pull away. Create distance before they can even get the chance to disappoint you.

But then there’s Theo. And, for some reason, he’s the only person you’ve never managed to push away.

Not that you haven’t tried.

In your first year, when you tripped down the last few steps of the dungeon staircase and sent your books flying, it was Theo who had crouched beside you, silently gathering them up, not a single snide remark on his lips as 11-year-old boys were prone to hand out. No, all you got was a faint smirk as he handed them back to you without a word, all while you gaped gormlessly at him.

In your third year, when you missed a week of classes after a particularly vicious stomach bug, it was Theo who had slid his notes across the table in Potions, muttering “don’t ask me to explain any of it” out the corner of his mouth. All the same, with every mildly incoherent word in his slanted, cursive handwriting, he was surprisingly cooperative in deciphering it for you.

In your fourth year, when you got hexed in the middle of the corridor and spent the entire afternoon with bright green hair, it was Theo who had walked you to the Prefects’ Bathroom, rolling his eyes as he mumbled something about how he “might as well supervise” before you inevitably made it worse.

And this year - your last year - he’s always there.

You don’t understand it. You don’t have the kind of friendship where you confide in each other, where you talk about things that matter. But somehow, Theo always seems to be around when it matters - watching with those observant, calculating eyes of his, offering help without making a big deal out of it, like he knows you wouldn’t take it if he did.

It’s a running joke now - one you always throw at him with a grin. You just can’t get rid of me, huh?

And every time, he huffs a quiet laugh. Apparently not.

The next time you get stuck with him is over spring break. Naturally, all your friends wanted to do was laze around the Common Room, half-dozing. Eventually, someone proposed the brilliant idea of fetching a game for a little intellectual stimulation, like Uno. Unfortunately, no one wanted to actually get up to get it other than you and Theo.

“This isn’t going to work,” you said. You and Theo were standing in an empty corridor on one of the higher floors, one where the Room of Requirement was rumoured to appear. He shushed you impatiently, his eyes still screwed shut as he thought long and hard about a deck of uno cards.

You sighed, waiting for him to get this over with. This close, you could see every individual eyelash of his, all of which were unfairly long. Really, it was a waste of a beautiful feature on a perfectly mediocre boy.

He finally opened his eyes, which almost immediately found yours. You hadn’t realised you were standing so close to each other. For a brief moment, you were struck by how pretty his eyes were - marbled, watercolour eyes that lent a softness to his otherwise strong, harsh features. Momentarily speechless, you looked away, following his line of sight over your shoulder.

Well, I’ll be damned, you thought. A door. An actual door.

Sure enough, it opened to a narrow, cavernous room filled to the brim with every board game you could dream up. The two of you wandered in, weaving in and out of stacks upon stacks of games. Once you picked out a suitable deck of Uno cards, you both meandered back to the entrance. Or what was the entrance.

You turned the corner of a stack, back to where the entrance was, only to see Theo standing with his back to you, his face hidden, fingertips ghosting a blank stretch of stone.

“Theo,” you started, stating the complete obvious, “why is there wall where the door is supposed to be?”

"I don't believe it," you heard him mumble disbelievingly under his breath. "It was here just a moment ago."

"You lost the door?" you cried out. He was starting to look a little green around the gills, his eyes darting to the other walls. He gave a weak, unconvincing laugh.

"Don't be ridiculous."

“Do something, Theodore!”

“I’m trying.”

“Try harder!”

Theo winced. “Quit yelling, would you?”

You sat down, slumped against the opposite wall, dragging a hand across your face. “Great. This is just perfect. We’re going to grow old and die and shrivel up in here and it’s all your fault.”

“My fault? If you had just waited by the door like I asked - ”

"You didn't tell me the door was going to disappear!"

"Yeah - well - it's never happened before." Theo dragged his hand out of his hair, now wildly sticking up in all directions, fingers trailing up the wall as if trying to feel for a hidden door. You scoffed.

"I told you we should have gone down to Hogsmeade to buy a deck, but no, you didn’t want to walk all that way.”

“Unlike you, I actually know how to work the Room.”

Theo turned just in time to dodge the Monopoly figurine you had hurled at his head.

"Then work it. Get us out of here."

--------

"Stop chucking things at me."

Grudgingly, you paused your assault. Half an hour ago, you had been ready to climb the walls and tear them down to get out of this place. Now, the craze had passed, so you settled for pelting Theo with all the tiny games figurines you could get your hands on while he paced wearily, trying to think of a solution.

“I’ll stop when we have an exit.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Theo turned back to the blank stone wall, muttering something under his breath as he pressed his palm against it. When nothing happened, he shoved both hands through his already-ruffled hair and swore under his breath.

Your eyes tracked his movements critically. “You have no idea how to get us out of here, do you?”

“Of course I do,” Theo shot back, a little too quickly.

"Right."

Five minutes later, he finally admitted defeat. He joined you where you were slumped in a corner, unsuccessfully trying to juggle the chess pieces. To your credit, you didn't say it, but your whole body language hummed with an undercurrent of I told you so.

"The Room's going to let us out when it wants to let us out," he said finally. "All we can do is wait till it feels like it."

He sounded so defeated you were starting to feel a little bad for being so hard on him. You sighed.

"I just can't believe we're stuck in here when everybody else is...you know, out there."

“Yes,” he said drily, “because there’s so many better places to we need to be. Merlin forbid we fall behind on our couch-rotting hours.”

You grinned as he picked up the deck of cards on your lap, starting to shuffle them.

"Might as well make the most of it while we're stuck here."

You raised your eyebrows as he started expertly manipulating the deck.

"Shuffling's the newest panty-dropper, eh?"

The corner of his mouth ticked upwards as his eyes remained fixed on the deck. "You'd be surprised."

You can practically see him puffing out his chest on the showier tricks he does with laser-focused concentration. It makes you want to laugh, his almost childish need to be impressive. To impress others. To impress you.

But, for reasons that eluded you, you were impressed. Not once had Theo ever let you down. It was as though he was incapable of it. You didn't exactly rely on him, but when he was around, his deep, self-assured voice was guaranteed to soothe your frazzled nerves. Even now, when all you wanted to do was bitch and moan about how you were never going to see the light of day again, he somehow managed to distract you, amuse you. Theo always knew how to turn a bad situation around and, well, to someone as catastrophic as you, what could sound more appealing?

Game after game, time began to blur. The cards whispered as they slid over each other in his hands, a hypnotic rhythm filling the silence between you. You let your head tilt back against the wall, exhaling slowly, the tension in your shoulders easing just a little.

Your head lolled against your shoulder as you lazily watched Theo shuffle the cards for the umpteenth time.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you noted, tilting your head toward him.

He didn't look up from the cards. "A novel concept, I know."

You nudged him in the ribs and he gave an exaggerated wince.

"Watch it. There's no exit and I'm more than capable of beating your ass."

Theo laughed at that, openly and unabashed.

"You're going to beat my ass?"

"Just said I would, didn't I?"

Theo snorted, mumbling something somewhat affectionate under his breath. You turned away, hiding your grin. Your cheeks were pink and your eyes glittered with the thrill of being Theo's company - the only person who could keep up with you.

He continued shuffling the cards, a little slower now.

“I’m thinking.”

You looked back at him, once again interested. “Dangerous.”

He flicked a card at you without looking, and you batted it away with a grin. “Thinking about what?”

His shuffling slowed to a stop. “Nothing.”

“Oh, it’s something.” You leaned even closer to him now, your knees brushing against his thigh. “Something broody and dramatic, I bet. Come on, spill.”

Theo exhaled through his nose. “Drop it.”

“Not a chance,” you chirped. "Just tell me what it is. Unless you’re scared.”

That got him. His jaw ticked, fingers tapping on the deck.

“Didn’t peg you for a coward, Nott,” you goaded, bumping your knee against his. “You can tell me.”

Theo let out a slow breath, his shoulders tensing. He shuffled the deck once more, but this time, his movements weren’t just for show. They were measured, thoughtful, almost like he was buying himself time.

You covered his hands with yours, stopping him. He glanced down to where the two of you were practically holding hands.

“If I tell you something, you have to promise not to laugh.”

You nodded. "Did you kill a man."

He huffed and rolled his eyes. "No."

"Is it about the shuffling? Were you secretly roped into an underground gambling ring over the summer? Is that where you learnt all those tricks?"

You could tell he desperately wanted to smile but was stopping himself. "No," Theo said, his grip on your hand tightening.

"You started an underground gambling ring? Without me?"

"Do you ever shut up?"

You dropped your eyes to his crotch for a fraction of a second.

"Ach - not like t - that's not what I meant."

"I'm just messing with you." You ran a hand through his hair despite his desperate, one-handed attempts to bat you away. "Tell me already."

Theo hesitated. You became suddenly aware of how quiet the Room was. You felt an awful, sinking feeling in your stomach that maybe Theo was right. You weren't going to like what he had to say.

“I don’t mind being stuck here.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

He shifted beside you, tapping the deck of cards against his knee.

“I mean, yeah, it’s a bit ridiculous how we ended up here, but…” He trailed off, searching for the right words.

“It’s not the worst thing in the world. Being here. Being stuck here. With you.”

You stared at him. His eyes shone with that stupidly optimistic sincerity of his that you only saw glimpses of from time to time. He meant every single word.

His grip slackened. Wordlessly, you retracted your hand. How were you to bear this?

"You're right," you said in a voice thick with unshed tears. "That is absolutely ridiculous. It's downright - " your voice quivered. You brushed a hand across your eyes. "Downright laughable."

A sobering silence followed. You wondered if Theo was kicking himself for having opened his mouth in the first place. You wondered if you should say something.

"You really don't mind this?" you started hoarsely. You tilted your head to face him. "You don't mind me? I mean, I pelted you with Monopoly pieces while yelling abuse at you. I messed up your hair."

His mouth curved into that faint, breezy smile of his.

"'Course I don't mind it."

"Why not?" You should.

"'Cause it's you." It's you. It's always been you.

Your eyes fluttered shut. You felt the exhaustion of being trapped in here catching up to you. You rested your head on his clavicle. Hesitantly, he turned his head to press his lips to your temple.

"I have to be honest, Y/N," he muttered against your hair. "I don't know if we're getting out of here."

"S'alright." You pressed a tiny kiss to his shoulder. "There's nothing I'd rather than do, either."

It's what all this loving him, hating him, wanting him boiled down to. Interlacing his long, careful fingers with your own, you decided that yes, there was no one else you'd rather be stuck with.

[ldydeath]

Feels Like I’ll Die Without You | Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon)

Summary: You run into your ex at a party. Neither of you are over each other, despite you being in a relationship with someone else. Will temptation get the best of you? Warnings: language, mentions of cheating, make out scene.  Word Count: 1.3k Author's Note: this is kind of a part two to I Used to Believe In You. You don’t really need to read it to understand this installment but if you want the background on why they broke up, you can read it here. Considering turning this into a series, let me know if you want a third part of this! 

It has been years since you’d been back in Korea. You didn’t even want to think about how long it had been or the way your last trip had ended. Something you’d thought would last a lifetime had come crumbling down in seconds. Looking back over the last twelve years you were glad it had ended. As much as you’d love Jiyong as a young twenty something in the industry it wasn’t meant to be. 

You hated how your brain instantly went to him the second your feet touched solid ground after your flight. You had a boyfriend and it has been twelve years since you’d seen Jiyong in person. Sure, he’d pop up on tv from time to time or social media but you hadn’t thought of him, talked to him, seen him since he’d flown to your house after you’d broken up all those years ago. 

For whatever reason, you were being forced to go to an event that you knew he’d be at, because of course he would be. Luxury, fashion, expensive things were his thing now. Long gone was the blonde edgy boy you’d met when you were first starting out. Now he was softer, more into fashion than you’d ever remembered him being. But your relationship had never really been that deep and for all you knew this was who he’d been from the start. 

“No shit.” You heard a familiar voice and turned, coming face to face with Youngbae and grinned. 

“Hi YB.” You pulled him into a hug, instant relief washing over you. 

An unfortunate circumstance of your fall out with Jiyong was the no contact you’d had with his three best friends post breakup. They’d been your friends too but as his closest friends and bandmates it was just easier for you to fade out of their lives.   

“You look great. How have you been?” 

“Good. Stable. I heard you got married and have a kid. That’s so exciting, I’m so happy for you!” 

“Thanks! I gotta admit I always thought you and Jiyong would be first to get married.” 

“Yeah, well…that didn’t happen.” The all too familiar voice of Jiyong rang out and you swallowed, your smile faltering. “Hello.” 

You turned from the safety of Youngbae, coming face to face with Jiyong. He was still just as handsome as ever and damn it if your heart didn’t speed up at the site of him. He looked handsome, his suiting fitting his body like a glove. The hat was a little goofy but damn it if he didn’t rock it. 

“Hi.” You squeaked out. Cursing yourself in your head. Jiyong smirked before raising a brow at Youngbae. 

“Excuse us for a minute?” Youngbae waved goodbye to you before walking away. “You look….amazing.” 

That was not what he wanted to say. You looked hot, but he wasn’t going to come straight out and say how down bad he still was for you. How no woman he’d been with since you could ever compare to you. You’d have all the power and he couldn’t have that. 

“Thanks. So do you.” You could feel the awkward tension rising in the room. 

“You wanna grab a drink and talk?” The way he said talk made your weak. That used to be code for doing anything but talking. 

“I have a boyfriend.” You blurted out and Jiyong closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. 

Of course you had a boyfriend. He should’ve known you wouldn’t stay single. You were one of the most talented and amazing people he’d ever met, you wouldn’t have just stayed single the last twelve years. 

“Ok? So a drink and we actually just talk.” You knew you shouldn’t, everything in your body telling you not to go with him. 

Deciding to ignore the warnings, you nodded your head and followed him. His hand reached out to grab yours and you knew you should pull away. Instead you linked your fingers with his and allowed him to lead you away from the crowd. He grabbed two drinks off a tray, handing you one so he wouldn’t have to let you go and led you outside. 

There was nobody out here, thanks to the chilly Korean night. You took a sip of your drink, your hand staying firmly in Jiyong’s hand. He looked down at your entwined fingers and smirked again before giving your hand a squeeze. He wasn’t going to let go first. Neither were you. Why was it so easy to fall into these old habits with him? 

Jiyong let go of your hand, moving to stand directly in front of you, his drink abandoned. Your heart sped up and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach at the closeness. You looked up, locking eyes with him and he moved his free hand to cup your cheek. You should back out of his touch, run inside, find security with the other attendees. He wouldn’t touch you like this in front of people. Instead, you leaned into his touch and there was that damn smirk again. 

“What?” 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” His eyes trailed from your eyes to your lips as he spoke.

You didn’t even question it, your body reacting to him whether you liked it or not and his lips were on yours. It was too much, too much passion, too wrong but you couldn’t help yourself when it came to Jiyong. You would probably always want him and that was why you’d stayed away for as long as you had. He wasn’t good for you, this wasn’t good for you. 

“Jiyong.” You panted, pulling away from him. “I can’t. I have a boyfriend.”  Jiyong shrugged at your words, leaning in closer to you. 

“He doesn’t have to know.” His lips covering yours again. 

It was almost too easy, getting lost in this moment with him. Hands roaming each other's bodies as the kiss took a desperate turn. His jacket was off, tie untied as he lifted you up on the table, your legs opening slightly so he could stand between them, your legs wrapping around him. His hands roaming up your legs as he broke the kiss. His lips latched onto your neck as he trailed kisses down your throat, your chest. Your eyes popped open as if coming to your senses as his lips brushed your breast. 

“Jiyong, I can’t.” You pushed him away slightly, jumping down off the table and smoothing out your dress.  “I’m not this person anymore.” 

Jiyong took a respectable step back and straightened his tie before sliding his jacket back on. As much as he still wanted you, he wasn’t going to do anything you didn’t want to do. If that meant he had to wait another twelve years for a stolen moment with you, fine. 

“I’m sorry. I got carried away.” 

“It’s fine. I did too.” You let out a sigh. You could’ve walked away at any moment, this wasn’t all on Jiyong. “I think I should go though.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I have to go present this watch anyway.” He took his hat off running his hand through his messy green hair and offered you a weak smile. “It was really good to see you.” 

“You too.” You nodded before walking away. 

Jiyong stood there, watching you walk away and swallowed the lump on his throat. He’d watched you walk away from him too many times in his life and somehow this one hurt the most. He wasn’t the same cocky asshole you’d met all those years ago but of course he hadn’t shown you any proof of that. The second he’d seen you all logical thoughts had gone right out the window. 

It hurt all the same though, having you reject him all over again. At this rate he figured he’d never be over you. It had been twelve years and he folded the second he’d seen you. Maybe one day he’d convince you that you were meant to be. But for now he’d just have to find a way to be ok with this moment. He smoothed his suit out one last time before heading inside, making sure to avoid you the rest of the evening.

tag list: @wcnderlnds @alosss-blog @sooyasya @dprvivi @infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun @loveesiren @tulentiy

[springismss]

ᱬ⛧ jealousy, jealousy ~ dabi

sum: just some jealous! dabi thoughts.

pairing: dabi x girlfriend! reader

content: 18+ - mdni below cut. jealousy p in v, language, teasing, dirty talk, cream pie, orgasm denial, possessive talk, implied/suggested multiple rounds, slight chocking, bruising/marking, reader gets called doll/princess/baby/good girl, general NSFW content.

a/n: oh look, a post that's not a jjk fandom one, oops. regaining my love for this burnt boi, holy fuck. on a side note, an old request from my wattpad days, with a fresh feel. as always likes, comments and re-blogs are deeply appreciated!

links: bnha/mha masterlist | masterlist

jealous! dabi who doesn’t show any kind of emotion at any point to anyone. it’s scarily complex to read him at times, however, there is one exception to that

jealous! dabi who, when you’re talking to someone, will stand nearby and listen to what you have to say to the lowlife you’re talking to. he knows you don’t have anything to hide from him, he’s just a little insecure about who he is and how he looks at the best of times.

jealous! dabi who’s in a touch-what’s-mine-and-i’ll-kill-you mood 99.9% of the time he’s awake. he won’t hesitate to use his quirk on whoever dares enter your personal space, ask best friend! toga, she was on the receiving end of a near-miss hit from his flames. in her defence, you were going through a rough moment and she was only trying to cheer you up.

jealous! dabi who overhears a mutual villain friend talking to you one night. who hears that he thinks “you look fine” and that he’ll “take you somewhere more comfortable”. the somewhat uncomfortable giggle you let out at the words made him nearly incinerate the pair of you before he caught the look of disgust on your face.

jealous! dabi who decides enough is enough as he steps forward into the light, just in time to see you try and push away the man as he grabs your arm. he knew you’d had enough of this wannabe’s bullshit.

jealous! dabi who joins you by your side in seconds, arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer to him, fingers digging into your hip, much to your amusement. you knew that he was pissed and things weren’t going to end well. judging by that look, he was trying hard to control the flames he wanted to throw out.

jealous! dabi who, once he hears the lowlife talking, tuts in annoyance. “ahhh, dabi, fancy seeing you here. i was just about to ask this beauty to keep me company for the night”. who may or may not have gotten a little too flame-happy when he stepped forward, gripping onto the others' top.

jealous! dabi who turns you to and bends over slightly, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder as you try to kick him in the stomach. you were more than capable of walking back yourself but of course, he had to throw a hissy fit and had the nerve to lug you around until he found a more private place for you both. well as private as it could be out in public.

jealous! dabi who, while walking, takes time to tease your cunt through your panties smirking smugly when you not only moan out but also cuss him out. “dabi, i swear i’ll fucking~”. with a quick retort of “fucking me you mean, doll”. you could punch him.

jealous! dabi who drops you to your feet when he settles on a place, pinning you against the wall as he skins two fingers, knuckles deep, into your cunt. savouring the look of embarrassment and pleasure that flashes on your face as you bite back a moan. he only takes a few moments before he’s helping you jump up only to sink you down on his cock, savouring the way you clamp around him as you finally moan out his name.

jealous! dabi who, on other days when someone dares enter your personal space, will tease you relentlessly with lingering touches and words that make you rub your legs together. telling you exactly how he’s going to fuck you into every surface he can until you're sobbing from the pleasure only he can give you. who’ll walk away to leave you alone with your now active thoughts and flustered appearance.

jealous! dabi who, when he’s had enough do the other lowlifes, won’t give you a moment to breathe between ripping that mind-blowing orgasm thanks to his mouth from you to sinking his cock past the ring of resistance, practically moulding your already tight walls to his shape. “don't think you got the message last time, so i guess i’m just going to have to get it through your skull again, doll”.

jealous! dabi who mutters out other sentences like “who do you belong to?". "who’s the only one making you feel this good". "i’m the only one who gets to fuck you and talk to you like that, understand, baby?".

jealous! dabi who’s rough when he fucks you but when he’s in these moods, he’s the extreme side of rough. you lose feeling in your legs and you’ll have trouble walking for the next few days. at least you’ll be away from prying eyes while you are.

jealous! dabi who makes you blush when he talks to you mid fuck, despite him already pistoning into you like a man possessed. “no one else can, shit, stretch your pussy this good", "f-fuck, you grip me perfectly, “does my cock feel, h-ah, good buried deep in your cunt?".

jealous! dabi who, regardless of your current position, likes to wrap a hand around your throat and squeeze slightly, knocking the breath out of you slightly as he forces you to look at him, tears of pleasure fall down your cheeks as you grip his forearm.

jealous! dabi who can’t help but hiss out more possessive sentences as he folds you in half, legs dangling in front of your face as you whimper from the sudden change of position. "you’re mine, got that? i’m the only one who can fuck you like this". "i’m the only one who gets to be in your cunt, marking you in a way no other man can”.

jealous! dabi whose favourite thing is orgasm when he's in this mood. who loves making you beg for it. he won’t let you crumble to your beautiful euphoria, unless you're a sobbing mess underneath him, shaking from the force then he might make an exception.

jealous! dabi who loves the feeling of your pussy being incredibly wet for him at times like that. the way your slick covers not only the outside of your cunt and your thighs but his cock and thighs as well. knows that when he finally lets you come, you’ll squirt a little more over him and drip onto the bed as well.

jealous! dabi who smirks down at you as you dares you to “beg me to let you come, princess. beg me to fill you full of nothing but me”. who can feel the soaked walls of your cunt pulsate at his voice, silently begging him to let you feel your euphoria before you manage out a string of incoherent words, much to his amusement. “i know you can do better than that, doll”.

jealous! dabi who makes more of a point by stopping his thrusting, moving his hand from your neck and placing them both by your head, caging you beneath him. “come on baby, tell me how much you want me to fill you up with my come, to having it dripping down your thighs for everyone to see who you belong to”.

jealous! dabi who can be more hands-on than usual, not in the sense of leaving black and blue marks across your skin, but red marks. on your thighs, back, neck and chest. bites and scratches to show everyone out there who fucks you to the point of no return. who you belong to regardless of what they may try.

jealous! dabi who rants as he pushes his cock back into your walls in a harsh rhythm, stating that he thinks "you like to make me jealous so i can destroy your insides” because “why else would you let those fuckers anywhere near you?”.

jealous! dabi who uses the excuse of being jealous so he can bury himself inside you as rough as he physically can muster because he doesn’t dare do it daily. sure he fucks you but not as harsh as he does when he’s jealous.

jealous! dabi who loves the way you mewl and cry out for him to let you come, you couldn’t take much more and you were slowly losing your sanity. who gives a countdown until you can let go. if he thinks you’re going to ruin that, he’ll stop his thrusts and pull out with your moans of frustration sounding in the room.

jealous! dabi who’ll make you suffer for a few moments before pushing his cock back into you again, daring you to let go with a smug “did i say you could come yet?”.

jealous! dabi who’ll, when you mutter out a quick “no” and “p-please, dabi, i c-can’t hold on”, give your thighs or ass, sometimes both, a few harsh slaps to get his point across. who loves feeling you quivering beneath him when he knows you won't last much longer. beginning his countdown once more, only to draw it out as painfully slow as he can.

jealous! dabi who’ll, when he finally reaches one, thrusts harshly into one more, cock head hitting against your cervix as he lets out an almost primal growl, ropes of thick come spurting out to fill you to the point of feeling so full. who savours the feeling of your cunt milking him, your own euphoria making your eyes roll as you come along with him, squirting on his thighs as well. “good girl”.

jealous! dabi who’ll take his time pulling out of you, smirking at the sight of his seed spilling out of your puffy pussy and running down to the sheets. a bound growl if he knows your own slick is mixed in there.

jealous! dabi who’ll pull you closer to him when he lays down beside you, gripping ahold of you tightly to make sure you’re not planning on going anywhere. not that you could anyway.

jealous! dabi who’s actually scared! dabi once everything is said and done.

scared! dabi who’ll place uncharacteristically soft kisses on your face, lips and neck, taking the time to apologise for being too rough with you. who finds himself relaxing to the patterns you draw on his chest as you rest your head above his heart, humming along to the drumming rhythm.

scared! dabi who doesn’t want you to leave him, because one thing that followed him around for most of his life, is the feeling of being forgotten and tossed aside. who gets overly jealous because he wants to be the only man you have your attention on at any given time.

scared! dabi who closes his eyes at your touches, listening to your words of assurance and love as you promise you’re not leaving, the only way you’ll leave him is if you were dead. who feels overwhelmed when he’s vulnerable, wanting to know he’s not alone.

scared! dabi who’ll always feel like that young boy he once was. who was given up on at an early age so he learnt to harden his heart to anyone and everyone he came in contact with.

scared! dabi who thanks whatever being out there you came into his life, showing him that not everyone was the same. who thanks his lucky stars that you gave him your time and broke those walls down one small step at a time.

scared! dabi who doesn’t always fuck you rough, despite what everyone thinks and how he looks. who’ll always spend days after fucking into you harshly making sure you’re okay in his own ways. who’ll always be gentle with you when you both end up wrapped around each other in bed next.

scared! dabi who’s come to learn that while he doesn’t like it sometimes, jealous! dabi will always be a part of him and a part you’ll love regardless.

[spaceycat]

okay but imagine young tony or steve knowing your college schedule and planning his whole schedule around it which means he plans his whole life around it (bonus if he’s not dating you yet)

just an idea lol, take ur time and do it if you wanna :))

AHHHHHHHH UESNUES YESY EYEES, COLLEGE!STEVE LET ME AT HIM!! i might make this a two parter ??? maybe the second one will be smut, but the first one will be them getting together LET ME KNOW IF YALL WANT THAT!!!!

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༄.° ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ...  ╰┈➤ 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝟷/𝟸 🧸ྀི

♫ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: i love you the way you are by bobby vinton (2:54)

✰ pairing: college!steve rogers x college!fem!reader

✰ cw: fluff, swearing, kissing, lowkey stalker-ish if you squint, love confessions, characters getting together but not actually stated, steve is a dork

✰ word count: 2.1k+ (lord)

✰ summary: steve notices you in his politics class, he starts to develop a crush on you and he then asks a mutual friend for your schedule - purposely posing himself outside your classrooms so he could make conversation and sitting next to you during politics.

✰ a/n: THEEHHEEHEHHEHEH, there's kinda alot of dialogue but YUHH!! COLOURING MAKES ME WANT TO EXPLODE, SOME OF THE COLOURING IS WEIRD - I BLAME TUMBLR

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༺colour chart༻ reader ❀ steve ☀︎ sam ✈︎

Steve first saw you in his Politics class, he thought you were cute - but nothing really developed from it. That's when your professor paired the two of you up for a project, he then noticed the small things about you - how your pens were chewed, how you sniflled every so often, how you always did your hair in a different way everytime he saw you. Suddenly, a feeling of affection developed into a crush. 

And now, you were sitting in his dorm - he kicked out his roommates as soon as he heard word that you were going to come over for the politics project. He wasn't really focused on the project, not even in the slightest - he just looked at you, his eyes big and wide filled with awe and appreciation that somehow you managed to be the one that was paired up with him.

The two of you were sitting on the floor of his dorm, a few stray pieces of clothes or pieces of paper scattered across the floor. Steve tried to clean up, he really did - but there is only so much you can do in 5 minutes.

He occasionally shifted his eyes down to the notebook infront of him, pretending to atleast do some work - his page was filled with scribbles of some notes, some doodles and now his pen was just absentmindedly scribbling across the page as he continued to keep up this facade.

You were on your computer infront of him, humming to yourself as you scrolled through presentation templates - he was mainly just looking at you know, his notebook discarded on his lap. He took note of your hair, which was down - some strands falling across your face that you had to tuck back behind your ear periodically. He wanted to do that, tuck your hair behind your ear and tell you how pretty you were and kiss you all over and--

Maybe he was getting ahead of himself, I mean you two have solely talked over the presentation - nothing more, nothing least and yet he was nothing short of obsessed.

"We should play some music." Your voice broke him out of his thoughts, he then realised that you were looking straight at him - probably knowing that he's been staring at you for an unhealthy amount of time. "Hm?--" "Music, we should play some." "It's just.. awkward silence, and I want to know what kind of music you're into, Rogers." "Would you believe me if I said hard-core rap?" You stared at him for a moment, squinting your eyes as to figure out if he was serious or not - you'd giggle. "No-- not in a million years."

You put on some music on your computer, it was quiet - just so you could still hear eachother. "Thanks for letting me come over on such a short notice." "Yeah, yeah-- of course."

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ 

The next day, Steve didn't see you - you guys didn't have Politics with each other, so he didn't even see you in the hallway, no awkward eye contact, no overcompensating conversations. He missed it, he missed talking to you and making you laugh.

That's when he saw his room-mate Sam walking down the hallway, he knew that you and Sam were close friends, closer than you and Steve ever were.

"Sam--" "Hey, Steve." Sam continued to walk, Steve caught up with him. "Uh-- you know that one girl, that I was talking about who's in my Politics class?" "Mhm.." "You're friends with her, aren't you?" "Steve, what's this about." "Nothing-- nothing, I just wanted to know what classes she's in." "You better not be trying to get into her pants, Rogers." "No-- no, god no. I just- want to see her more." "Sure." "I'm serious--" Steve stood infront of Sam, stopping him in his tracks. Sam sighed, "Alright fine-- just.. don't be weird about it- okay? I'll talk to her." "God-- thank you, thank you, thank you--" "You owe me, okay?"

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ 

Later, Steve was in his dorm - scrolling through social media on his phone, when Sam walked in setting down his things. Steve looked up at him expectingly, that's when Sam sighed; pulling out a printed out copy of your college classes schedule.

"This is some weird stalker shit yknow--""Dude, shut up." "You must be crazy for this girl if you're literally forcing me to get her schedule.""I didn't force you-- you said you would." "It's still fucking weird, Steve."

His eyes skimmed over the piece of paper, noting that you had night literature class the next day - but that means that he would need to stay on campus hours after his classes just to remotely see you, but that's something he was willing to do.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ 

The next day, Steve was at the college - his classes have been over for hours now. He was waiting outside your Literature class, ensure how to pose himself. Should he like pretend to accidentally walk into you and be like "Oh, sorry-- I didn't I see you there." No-- no, that's weird. He opted to be pretending to be on his phone, looking busy. That's when people started filtering out of the class. Then he saw you - posing up against the wall.

"Steve?--" "Hm? Oh.. hey." "I thought your classes were over." "Uh-- no, no. Still here." "Well I was about to head to that café up the road.. do you wanna join me?" "Yeah.. I could eat." I could eat? God, his mouth speaks faster than his mind thinks sometimes, but even then he followed you like a lost puppy out of the english building at your college.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ 

The two of you filed into the cafe, it was late at night at this point - the moon replacing the sun and stars filling the sky. You sat down a booth. Steve ordered a coffee and one of the sandwiches on display while you ordered just a latte, already having eaten.

Awkward silence covered the two of you, your fingers drumming against the table while Steve ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the stubborn strays.

A waiteress came over, placing down the food and hot drinks - you muttered a thanks as she walked back the way she came. You took a sip of your drink - looking up at Steve hesitantly. This all suddenly felt real.

"What were you doing before I came out of class?" "Oh, y'know-- studying and stuff." "Mhm.." You smiled a bit, taking another sip of coffee - you didnt believe a word Steve had just said but you thought it was charming. "What? You don't believe me?" "Is this another add-on to the hard core rap thing?" "Very funny." He'd cross his arms, tilting his head at you. "What were you actually doing." He let out a sigh, thinking it was better to come clean. "Waiting for you.." "Waiting for hours on end for me?" Steve just shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. "How'd you know where I was anyways?" "Hm?" He looked up at you, he definitely heard what you said - but as he asked again he silently hoped that the question you asked would miraculously change once he questioned you. "How'd you know where my literature class was.." "..I dont know-- Sam must've told me or something." "Oh shit, I forgot Sam was your roommate." You said with a chuckle taking a sip of your coffee. "Yeah.." "Wait, Sam told me yesterday that he needed my schedule like desperately.. was that you who needed it?" "Well-- well I wouldnt say I needed it like bad or anything--" "It actually was you?" "Well, yeah.. it was." "Why?" "I needed it so see when you were free for the project." "Bullshit--" "What?--" He chuckled, not seeming to get anything past you. "You're a pathological liar, Stevie." He smiled at the nickname, looking down at his coffee - biting his tongue between his teeth as he nodded. "Alright you caught me.." "Oh really?" "I just wanted to know when I could take you on a date." You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms. "Smooth." Steve fiddled with the coffee mug, his attention solely focused on you - his gaze almost nervous. "What do you say?" "Walk me back to my dorm and I'll think about it." "..Alright." He stood up, paying for the food - practically ushering you out of the door.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ 

As the two of you walked across the campus, Steve noted how cold it was getting as December rolled near. His hands were shoved in his jacket pockets as he walked slowly beside you - watching as you looked up at the stars of the night sky. The two of you soon neared your dorm building, Steve dragged his hand out of his pocket, grabbing your hand before you could walk inside - his touch gentle and soft.

"You didnt expect me to just forget about the whole date thing did you?" "What, did it seem like I did?" "You're awfully silent, sweetheart.." The nickname just rolled of his tongue, spur of the moment. He watched as you moved closer to him, almost seeking warmth from in from the cold surroundings.

Steve then saw a snowflake fall down into your done-up hair, he then looked up and around - snow started to fall around the two of you. The whiteness coating the trees and the pavement, snow perching itself on each other's hair, shoes and shoulders.

Steve didn't even notice how your attention didn't divert away from him, your eyes still on his face as he looked around the environment. You then pulled him back to reality, back to you by grabbing his chin with your fore-finger and your thumb and tilting it back to face you. The two of you just stared into each other's eyes as you dragged your thumb across his soft bottom lip as you leaned up to place a kiss to his lips - a short and sweet one.

You'd move back down to the soles of your feet, looking up at him. "Was that dumb?--" He didn't even give a response, capturing you in another much needed kiss - filled with love and adoration. It's everything he's ever wanted all in one, your lips still tasting faintly of coffee and the lip balm you were wearing. A hand slipped to cup your face, feeling the soft skin beneath his fingers that his wanted to touch and feel for the longest time. You didn't shy away, you didn't pull back, you kissed him back like you were waiting for this moment as much as he was.

As you both pulled back from the kiss, he noticed a single strand of hair that fell across your face - he then tucked it behind your ear, smiling widely down at you. Adoring the snowflakes adorning your hair and eyelashes as you looked at him with big wide eyes.

"I'd like that date.." "Yeah?" "Yeah.." "Cool." "Cool?-- that's all you're going to say?" You said with a giggle, as a sheepish smile adorned his face. "You're a dork, Steve." You then pulled him back into another short kiss, gripping onto his jacket.

You soon parted ways, as you entered your dorms he just stood there, grinning like an idiot - looking down at the snowy ground. His hands resumed their place in his jacket pockets as he walked back to his dorm building that was on the other side of the campus - but he was willing to make that walk everyday if it means seeing you.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ 

As Steve walked into his dorm, he took off his jacket and placed his keys near the door. That dorky smile still plastered on his face. Sam noticed almost immediately. "What's got you smiling?" "Nothing, it's nothing." Steve walked over to his bed, sitting down. "Did stalking really get you somewhere?" Steve smiled at him, before nodding - Sam's jaw dropped. "What?!--" "Okay so-- we went out to some cafe, we talked and then we walked back to campus and it started snowing and then we kissed." "Man, what the fuck-- why do you get a romance movie scenario for being a weirdo." Sam leaned back against the wall near his bed, crossing his arms. Steve just shrugged, looking down to the floor.

He was excited for that date, and just to see you again - see you smile, see you laugh because of him. And then he realised that his part of the politics project was due tomorrow and he barely made a dent in it because of him swooning over you, he couldn't have it all.

But he has you, and that's all he really cares about.

[fou4summer]

A summer to remember

yoo jaeyi × fem!reader

Synopsis: Spending the summer in a quiet countryside by the sea was supposed to be a break from everything, until your parents introduce you to Yoo Jaeyi. Her family moved here while you were in the city. What starts as irritation slowly shifts into something else, as the days pull you both closer in ways neither of you expected.

Warnings: kinda enemies to lovers

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 2.3k

Summer had started, and you were packing your bags for the time you’d be spending away from home in the city. Your parents had already packed and were waiting for you by the front door. You thought this was going to be just like every year. Boring summer in the quiet countryside, where only the waves of the sea could be heard. The people there were usually older, so you often found yourself by yourself, reading books or doing other things like that.

You finally arrived after what felt like days, but it was only a couple of hours. Your parents had already unloaded the car, carrying your stuff into the house. You were scrolling through your phone, even though the signal was already bad. You heard your parents talking with someone, so you made your way over to them.

You arrived, slipping your phone into the pocket of your shorts, and saw a couple about your parents’ age. After introducing yourself, the young couple mentioned that they had a daughter your age and that’s when you saw her. She was carrying your bag and stopped in front of you and the others. You both exchanged looks before she smiled at your parents, completely ignoring you.

"Sir, I’ve got the bag. If it’s okay with you, I can take it to the room where you need it." She spoke very politely, but it was obvious she was faking it. Your parents didn’t seem to notice.

"Jaeyi, introduce yourself to Y/N. She’s your age, and you two can hang out. She’s a lovely young girl!" Her mom said in a sweet tone, placing a hand on your shoulder, making your parents chuckle.

"Jaeyi, Yoo Jaeyi." She held out her hand, waiting for you to shake it. You nodded and took her hand.

"Y/N, nice to meet you, Jaeyi." You smiled before your parents told you to take your bags to your room while they talked a bit with Jaeyi’s parents. She insisted on helping you carry the bags, and your mom praised her for being so nice.

"Thank you for helping. My parents made me bring a lot of stuff..." You trailed off, but she cut you off by exiting the room and slamming the door shut. You were so confused and irritated. Why had she slammed the door like that? You tried to ignore whatever had happened and focused on unpacking. You finished pretty quickly, but you were exhausted.

After lying down on your bed, you started thinking about your new 'friend.' What was her problem? You got lost in your thoughts so much that you didn’t hear your parents calling you. Then your dad entered your room.

"Y/N, come downstairs and get ready. We’re going out for dinner. I always have to call you a million times..." He mumbled the last sentence. You sighed as you got up from your bed, got ready, and went downstairs.

-

As you walked down the street, your parents were talking about which restaurant to go to. You were looking around, taking in the beauty of the night. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a familiar figure, so you told your parents you'd be right back. You were right. By the bridge that extended over the sea, you saw Jaeyi. You didn’t want to talk to her because you found her too quiet, but you were curious about why she acted that way.

"Hey, neighbor." She turned around at the mention of the dumb nickname. She looked annoyed, just as you were. She sighed before picking up her skateboard from the floor.

"What do you want, city girl? You're getting on my nerves." She said, adjusting her white hat.

"No need to be a bitch from the start. What did I even do to you?" You asked, even though you shared the same feelings toward her.

"Do I need a reason to find you irritating? I thought you’d be smarter since you’re from a big city." She said, laughing at her own joke. You scoffed before replying.

"I mean, you get on my nerves too with your overly polite act, but at least I try to be nice, unlike someone here." You said, fiddling with the ring on your finger. She dropped her skateboard on the floor and rode off without saying goodbye. You ran a hand through your hair as you noticed her white jacket, forgotten on the bench.

You wanted to just leave it there, given how she had acted toward you, but in the end, you found yourself carrying her jacket over your shoulder as you joined your parents at a nearby restaurant.

"Y/N, where were you? The food’s already here." Your mom asked as you started eating.

"Uh, I just wanted to take a picture of the sea..." You mumbled, avoiding eye contact. You didn’t want your parents to know you’d actually been with Jaeyi, because then they’d think you were friends. And you definitely didn’t want that.

-

You finished dinner and were already on your street. Jaeyi’s house was right next to yours, and that’s how you ended up in their yard, drinking orange juice because your parents practically forced you to say hi and be a good neighbor. It wasn’t until later that you realized why her parents kept glancing at you every once in a while. You were holding her jacket. You’d completely forgotten about it and just ended up carrying it around.

When you realized, you quickly got up, wanting to return it to her room without her noticing, since it would make it seem like you cared. After explaining to her parents why you had her jacket, her mom smiled warmly.

"Honey, you can leave it in her room upstairs. And thank you, she always forgets things easily." She said, pointing to the door that led to her room. After leaving the jacket, you couldn’t help but look around for a bit. She had a lot of skateboards, and her room was huge. It literally screamed Jaeyi. Then, she appeared right behind you.

"What the heck are you doing here?! Get out!" She almost yelled, making you jump a little. The worst part was that she wasn’t alone. Behind her was a guy, slightly taller than her, scrolling through his phone. You don’t know why, but you suddenly disliked her ten times more than you had before. You didn’t even realize that he had already entered the room like he was there before, and it made you furious. But at the same time, it made you want to cry.

"I-I'm sorry, I'll go." You muttered. You didn’t know why you just apologized to Yoo Jaeyi, the girl you couldn’t stand ever since you came.

"Weirdo..." You heard her mumble as you walked past her. She saw you wipe your face, but didn’t want to care. It wasn’t until later, when she saw her white jacket, the one she had been searching for, neatly folded on her chair, that it hit her. She felt bad, but she pushed those feelings aside when she remembered it was you.

-

You ran out of her house, wiping your face. If someone asked you why you were crying, you’d tell them you didn’t know. Because, honestly, you had no idea. Was it because of the guy? Or because she let him into her house? Or was it because you realized you had feelings for her, the girl who had called you annoying and irritating, even though you had the same thoughts about her?

Your parents were too busy chatting with their new favorite friends, who probably assumed you had the same experience with their daughter. Meanwhile, you were crying in your room, unsure why, but you didn’t want it to be because of her.

-

You avoided Jaeyi for the next couple of days. You noticed that, even though you two couldn’t stand each other, you saw each other every day and even talked. Well, actually argued, but whatever. Now, you were in your room all day until your parents dragged you out for a night walk, saying this was a vacation and you shouldn’t spend the whole summer in your room.

The streets were quiet, yet there were so many people. You passed the bridge and turned around to look at it a few times, enough for your mom to notice.

"Is everything okay, Y/N?" She asked. You nodded, staying quiet. As you continued walking and having small conversations with your parents, your dad asked, "Hey, isn’t that Jaeyi? Is that her boyfriend? How cute."

That made you turn around and look at the scene ahead of you. She was with the same boy from before, holding hands. It made you sick, and so many thoughts filled your head.

"I’m sorry, I don’t feel well. I’ll head home, and you two continue. See you later!" You tried to sound normal, even though it was obvious something was off.

"Wait! Y/N, dear!" Your mom yelled, but you were already heading home.

Jaeyi saw your parents, then noticed a familiar figure behind them, walking in the opposite direction. She excused herself, leaving the poor guy confused. She ran past your parents, making them turn around. She grabbed your wrist, making you turn around.

"Y/N..." She whispered. You jerked your hand away, but she quickly grabbed it again, dragging you to the same bridge where you had insulted each other days ago. You felt tears on your cheeks, and you felt more embarrassed than ever, so you looked down. She lifted your chin before wiping your tears away.

"You can cry. I won’t call you annoying. I promise." That made you smile as you looked up at her. She noticed you were still thinking about something, so she wanted to tell you everything. She felt like she was losing a lot of time.

"Y/N... I-I like you, and I’ve liked you ever since you came here. When I saw you get out of the car, that’s when I started to have feelings for you. That guy works at the shop where my dad buys stuff for fishing, and I never agreed to date him. I never liked him in the first place. I wanted to like him because I knew you would eventually go back to the city, and-" You cut her off by pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She immediately returned the kiss, placing her hands around your waist and pulling you closer.

"That’s enough, calm down, won’t you?" You wrapped your arms around her neck, making her laugh at your statement.

"Sorry, was that not how you people kiss in the city?" She teased. You smacked her arm playfully, telling her to shut up.

"Close your eyes for a second." You placed your hands over her eyes.

"No peeking!" You laughed, hearing her voice as you ran away. You grabbed her skateboard, knowing she’d kill you if you broke it. She noticed and looked up from her hands.

"Hey Y/N! Stop right there!" She yelled, running after you. After catching up, she tickled you until you dropped the skateboard.

"Help me learn to ride it." You poked her waist as she started riding it on the bridge, you running next to her.

"Yoo Jaeyi! Come on, don’t be a jerk!" She laughed, waiting for you at the end of the bridge.

-

You catch up and sit down next to her. The night is beautiful, the sound of the waves crashing gently against the shore and the warm, comforting feel of summer surrounding you. The sky is dotted with stars, and everything feels peaceful, almost surreal. You look over at her as she gazes up at the stars, her face soft in the dim light, her expression lost in thought.

"Even if you go back, I will never stop liking you, Y/N. Please don’t forget about me until next summer." She says, her voice a bit shaky, revealing vulnerability you didn’t expect. You never thought you would see the mean, sarcastic Jaeyi soften like this. The words hang in the air, and for a moment, everything feels like it’s standing still.

You don’t say anything at first, just taking in her words. Instead, you gently turn her chin so she looks at you. Then, you kiss her again, letting the moment speak louder than words.

"I won’t forget someone as annoying as you." You whisper between kisses, still holding her hand.

"You’ve been on my mind since I first saw you." There’s a lightness in your chest now, a weight lifted you didn’t even realize you’d been carrying. You sit there, talking softly, letting the world pass by until it gets late. Eventually, you decide to take a walk back home, but not before she gives you her white jacket, a small gesture that means more than anything.

As you walk, she even helps you learn the basics of riding a skateboard. The night feels endless, and everything seems to fall into place. It’s simple, but perfect, like this is how things were always meant to be.

A/N: I'm running out of ideas lmaoo. If you have any ideas of what I sould write or maybe if you want pt2 of this let me know and thank you for all the support!

[strawberrychampagneglass]

Love Me Not

WC : 1.5k (short, ik, but there will be a significantly longer second part. This is j to set the stage and keep you guys fed) A/N: woah it's been a busy couple of weeks. haven't really decided what to do with roses but we'll see, but here's a little mini-series inspired by the song "Love Me Not" by Ravyn Lenae. Stay safe, take care of yourselves, and i hope yall enjoy this little lead up

Pairing: Paige + Azzi Themes: angst, angst, angst, pining, hurt/little bit of comfort ig

Paige is sprawled across her bed, scrolling mindlessly through her phone. She tries to convince herself that she’s desperate for a dopamine hit after a grueling day of physically and mentally exhausting conditioning, but in reality, she’s desperate for a distraction. She’s desperate for something to fill the Azzi-sized void in her heart, a void that has continuously fractured her heart for the past month. 

No, I don’t need you.

She knew the words she hurled at the brunette were deliberate, perfectly selected to leave a lingering wound. And God, it hurts. It hurts Paige to know how effortlessly she can break Azzi. The type of hurt compresses the blonde’s chest so much that it hurts to breathe. Hell, it hurts to think. 

Yet amidst her self-pity party, a small flame inside Paige that had subconsciously fostered into a flame, igniting every vein of her body, only fuels her frustration with the younger woman. 

She knew they had no title, no exclusivity, but when she saw her Azzi smiling at, talking to, touching, and kissing another woman at the bar, she lost it. She had exploded at her best friend. The second her words, laced with jealousy and pain, rolled off her tongue, she wished she had caught them and shoved them back in her mouth. The second she saw Azzi’s beautiful face crumble, her dark eyes, usually full of adoration for the blonde, suddenly filled with deep, gut-wrenching hurt. Paige wanted nothing more than to comfort the younger woman. 

But I miss you, come here. 

Her mind is full of her teammate’s urging to text the younger woman, to apologize. And Paige wants to apologize, explain, and hell, even beg for another chance. But at the end of the day, it made sense to Paige. It made sense that every time they watched a movie, Azzi was absent from the warm covers of Paige’s bed in the morning. It made sense that Azzi’s body was stiff every time they hugged as if reciprocating Paige’s hug was painful. It made sense that every time they fucked, albeit drunk and impulsive, Paige would always wake up to an empty bed. Her fingers hover over her keyboard before she sighs and drops it, opting to curl up under the comfort of her covers instead. 

Oh, it's hard to see you

Her memories replayed in her mind like the highlight reel she had made to recruit the brunette to UConn, the highlight reel that had meant so much more to both of them. It was the string that would tie the two together for the next four years. Every moment spent with Azzi, every touch, every stolen glance, and every whispered word begins to paint an intricate mural of PaigeandAzzi. But it’s gone now. She can still hear the laughter that fell from her lips so easily, replaying in her mind as an endless loop 

But I wish you were right here.

The delicacy of Azzi’s touch to ease her to sleep is gone, replaced by an unbearable silence. She knows better, though; there were no commitments, no strings, and no promises. But Paige had simply assumed that they would be exclusive with each other. Maybe that was the problem, why Azzi never stayed, why she always left before Paige could reach for her, before she could beg her to stay. 

Next to her, Paige’s phone vibrates, snapping her out of her trance. Before she can look, her heart leaps out of her chest, sparking the remnants of hope in her chest to life before she can check the screen. But when she does, her heart sinks into the chasm of her chest in disappointment. It’s a simple text from KK, asking where she is. In hindsight, Paige knows she was out of character today. Usually, she’s one of the last people to leave the locker room, opting to take a shower and joke around with her teammates before heading back to her dorm for the night. Tonight, however, she was the first person out of the locker room, barely acknowledging the presence of her teammates. Instead of answering the text, she lets her body get engulfed in a deep sleep.

***

When the door to Azzi’s room creaks open ever so quietly, she instantly sits up, her eyes wide and her body rigid. As soon as her eyes land on a tall, blonde woman in the doorway, her body softens instinctively. 

But this woman isn’t Paige. 

She misses the stillness of her favorite pair of blue lights that glisten with mirth whenever they find Azzi’s warm brown eyes. She misses the chorus of favorite giggles echoing off the walls in the middle of the night. Most of all, she misses the smooth texture of Paige’s soft skin that melded perfectly with the tips of Azzi’s finger. 

And Azzi knows she’s being unfair, but the idea of Chloe felt wrong. The green eyes were foreign, although they were sultry and sexy, they didn’t instill the same sense of innocent affection. The platinum blonde hair feels unfamiliar, it was straightened out and detangled to perfection, but it lacks the silkiness that Paige’s golden hair possessed. Chloe was undeniably beautiful, but she wasn’t Paige. She doesn’t have the irresistible charisma, the selflessness, nor the same, unmatched affection for her teammates. Azzi missed Paige, and as lovely as Chloe is, she can’t bring herself to love the girl. 

“Hey baby,” Chloe sing-songs as soon as her eyes land on the brunette. Azzi tenses at the use of the name, her mouth contorting into a frown. Digging her fingernails into her palm, she knows she needs to be honest with Chloe, tell her the truth and tell her that the last 5 weeks were a waste of both of their time. 

Oh, it's hard to leave you when I get you everywhere

When Chloe walks over to the bed, ready to embrace the brunette, there’s obvious discord between her body and her brain as she reciprocates the hug, melting into Chloe’s warm body. “Hey Chlo,” Azzi hums. 

But it feels wrong, and Azzi knows. It feels wrong in places she can’t pinpoint. What she does know though, is that she can’t give her heart to Chloe. 

***

When Paige’s shot bounces off the rim for the umpteenth time, she curses to herself, throwing her hands onto her face. It was a poorly chosen shot--a three heaved up a second too late, her view obstructed by an outstretched hand. But Paige’s body has been out of sync from her calculated instincts programmed into her mind. Every pass from Paige to Azzi was just a fraction off and led to a turnover or a missed shot. Their coordination was off, the once effortless and rhythmic on-court chemistry had become a stifling presence, a lingering tension that neither of them know how to ease.

As soon as she slumps on the bench, she buries her head into her arms, sighing for a prolonged moment. CD spares her a sympathetic glance before returning to Geno’s side, his voice gruff as he yells out plays over the chaos of practice. Jana pats her back in reassurance, muttering incoherent words that were drowned out by the sharp barks of instruction and clatter of sneakers against the hardwood floor.

Azzi, on the other hand, feels her throat dry up as she watches a carefully constructed Paige unravel in front of her eyes. The sight of her--head bowed, shoulders tense, completely shut off--sends an uncomfortable chill down her spine. Paige had been uncharacteristically nervous, lacking the confidence and fierceness that once twinkled in her now dull eyes. This wasn’t the Paige that could shake off a missed shot with a shrug and a smirk before running back on defense. This was a Paige that was breaking, every piece that made Paige Paige were beginning to fracture right in front of Azzi’s eyes. She forces herself to look away, running down the floor to the 3-point-line where she drains a 3 with ease.

After every mistake, a heavy silence follows, thickening the storm brewing between the two women. Neither of them acknowledge it, they don’t have a need to. It’s in the way Paige’s jaw clenches, the muscle flexing, or in the way Azzi’s hands hesitate, fingers gripping the ball a little too tightly. Their discomfort is palpable, infecting the rest of their teammates who glance at each other in horror. 

Paige doesn’t look at her. And maybe that hurts the most. 

Soon as you leave me, we always lose connection

By the time Geno dismisses them to the locker room, Paige is already turning toward the locker room, her head down, her strides quick and detached. Azzi wants nothing more than to reach out to the blonde and embrace her. Instead, she stays rooted to her spot, paralyzed under the tangible weight of their broken relationship. She watches Paige disappear down the tunnel, the space between them stretching farther than before.

[tobiosbbyghorl]

Hyper&Chill | psh

act 12: First time fighting with him

You knew something was wrong the second Sunghoon didn’t text you good morning.

It was a small thing—maybe even trivial—but Sunghoon, for all his nonchalant ways, never forgot. He always sent a quick, lazy “morning” with some dry joke about how he hated waking up.

But today?

Nothing.

At first, you brushed it off. Maybe he was just busy or had overslept. But when you saw him at uni, leaning against his locker, scrolling through his phone like he had all the time in the world—without so much as glancing your way—your stomach dropped.

Your steps slowed, uncertainty creeping up your spine.

Did I do something?

You wracked your brain, trying to recall if you’d said or done anything wrong. Yesterday had been normal—laughing over dinner, his hand casually resting on your thigh under the table, him walking you home like usual.

So what changed?

You mustered the courage to approach him. “Hey, Hoon.”

He barely looked up, just giving you a flat, “Hey.”

That’s when you knew.

Something was wrong.

Your smile faltered. “Are we still hanging out later?”

A pause.

Then, without looking at you, he said, “Can’t. I’m busy.”

It was the way he said it—detached, uninterested, as if you were just some casual acquaintance instead of the person he kissed breathless just two nights ago.

Your chest tightened.

“Hoon,” you said softly, searching his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Another short, clipped answer.

Frustration bubbled in your chest. “Okay, obviously something’s wrong, because you’re acting weird—”

“I said nothing’s wrong, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched.

He had never used that tone with you before. Cold. Sharp. Distant.

Sunghoon didn’t yell—he didn’t have to. His indifference cut deeper than any raised voice ever could.

For the first time since you started dating, he looked at you like you were just another person in his life.

And it hurt.

“…Fine,” you said quietly, swallowing the lump in your throat. “If you don’t want to talk to me, I won’t force you.”

You turned on your heel and walked away, refusing to let him see the way your fingers trembled.

The next two days were pure torture.

Sunghoon wasn’t just distant—he was silent.

No texts. No calls. No stopping by your usual lunch spot.

You’d see him in passing—walking through the halls, chatting with his friends, laughing at something stupid—but every time your eyes met, he’d look right past you, like you weren’t even there.

Like you didn’t matter.

And it was driving you insane.

By the third day, you’d had enough.

You stormed up to him after class, grabbing his wrist before he could slip away.

“Okay, seriously—what is going on?”

He turned, finally looking at you, but his expression was unreadable.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Your blood boiled. “Hoon, don’t do that. Don’t act like I’m imagining things when you’ve been ignoring me for days.”

His jaw tightened. “Maybe I just needed space.”

Your heart squeezed. “Space? From me?”

He didn’t say anything.

And that silence—that awful, heavy silence—was somehow worse than any argument you could’ve had.

You forced yourself to take a breath. “Sunghoon, I don’t know what I did wrong, but can we please just talk? You shutting me out like this—”

“It’s not just about you, Y/N.”

The words were cold, final.

You froze.

“Not everything has to be a big, dramatic conversation.” His voice was eerily calm, but you saw the tension in his shoulders. “I just needed time to think.”

Your lips parted, but you had no idea what to say to that.

Time to think? About what?

About you? About this relationship?

Your stomach twisted. “Do you—” You hesitated, heart pounding. “Do you still want to be with me?”

For the first time since this started, Sunghoon’s mask cracked.

His brows furrowed, his lips parting slightly, as if your question had completely thrown him off.

“What?” His voice dropped, softer now.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I don’t know what I did to make you shut me out like this, but if you’re—if you’re having doubts, if you don’t want this anymore, just tell me.”

Something in his expression shifted.

Then, before you could react, his hand cupped your face, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to look at him.

“…You really think that?” His voice was quieter now, but there was something raw beneath it. “You think I don’t want you?”

You blinked rapidly, caught off guard by the sudden change in his demeanor.

“I don’t—” Your voice cracked. “I don’t know what to think, Sunghoon. You shut me out, you didn’t even tell me why, and I—” You exhaled shakily. “I hate fighting with you.”

A long pause.

Then, finally, Sunghoon sighed, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“…I got jealous.”

Your breath caught.

What?

He looked away, exhaling through his nose. “The other day. When you were laughing with that guy in class—Jaemin, or whatever his name is.” His grip on your waist tightened slightly. “You didn’t even notice how close he was to you.”

You stared.

That’s what this was about?

Sunghoon let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “It was stupid, I know. But it pissed me off, and instead of just saying something like a normal person, I—” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I handled it like an idiot.”

Your heart ached at the guilt in his voice.

“Hoon,” you whispered. “You could’ve just told me.”

“I know.” His shoulders sagged slightly. “I didn’t mean to make you think I didn’t want you.” His gaze softened. “That’s the last thing I want.”

Silence settled between you.

Then, before he could react, you punched him in the arm.

“Ow—what the hell?!”

“That’s for ignoring me for three days, dumbass!”

Sunghoon let out a pained laugh, rubbing his arm. “Yeah, okay. I probably deserved that.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Damn right, you did.”

Another pause.

Then, a little more hesitantly—

“…Are we good?”

You sighed, your frustration slowly melting into something softer. “You’re still on thin ice, Park.”

His lips quirked up. “Fair enough.”

“…But yeah. We’re good.”

Sunghoon let out a relieved breath, then—without warning—wrapped you in his arms.

You stiffened for half a second before melting into his embrace, inhaling his familiar scent.

“I missed you,” he murmured against your hair.

Your lips twitched. “Maybe don’t ignore me for three days next time, and you won’t have to miss me.”

He groaned. “Okay, okay. I get it.”

You smirked. “Do you, though?”

“…I’ll make it up to you.”

You pulled back slightly, raising a brow. “How?”

Sunghoon smirked, leaning in.

“I have a few ideas.”

Four months in, and this was your first real, full-blown fight.

Not the petty bickering or stubborn silent treatments like before.

This was loud, heated, and ugly.

You didn’t even remember how it started. Something small—probably insignificant in hindsight—but it had spiraled so fast neither of you could stop it.

“You’re being ridiculous, Y/N!” Sunghoon’s voice was sharper than you’d ever heard it, his jaw clenched as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

You scoffed, crossing your arms tightly. “Oh, I’m ridiculous? Maybe if you actually listened to me for once, we wouldn’t be having this conversation!”

He let out a sharp exhale, eyes flashing with irritation. “I do listen to you, but sometimes you just blow things way out of proportion!”

You felt something snap inside you. “Oh, so now I’m just overreacting? You know what, Sunghoon? If you actually cared, you wouldn’t brush me off like I’m some dramatic idiot!”

His expression darkened. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Your voice was quieter now, but cutting. “It’s obvious you think I’m just some annoying girlfriend who makes a big deal out of nothing.”

Sunghoon’s fingers curled into fists. “Do you even hear yourself right now? I put up with your mood swings, your dramatics, your constant need for attention—”

Your chest ached.

Put up with?

You felt your throat tighten, but your pride refused to let you back down. “Well, if I’m such a burden to you, maybe you should just break up with me.”

Sunghoon’s eyes flashed, his breath hitching slightly.

The second the words left your mouth, you regretted them.

But his face hardened.

His next words came out like a cold slap.

“Maybe I should.”

Silence.

It rang louder than your shouts ever could.

Your lips parted slightly, but nothing came out.

Sunghoon stared at you, his own chest rising and falling sharply, as if he hadn’t meant to say it either.

For the first time since this started, you saw hurt flicker in his expression.

But instead of fixing it, instead of taking it back—

He walked away.

And you let him.

The fight left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Sunghoon didn’t text. Didn’t call.

And for the first time since you started dating, he didn’t come looking for you.

You told yourself you didn’t care.

But the way your eyes kept darting to your phone? The way your chest tightened every time you passed his usual spots on campus?

You cared.

The worst part was the what-ifs.

What if he really meant it? What if he really thought you were too much? What if this was the fight that actually ended things?

Three days passed in radio silence.

By the fourth day, you couldn’t take it anymore.

You found him in the library, headphones on, eyes glued to his laptop.

The sight made your stomach twist—he looked perfectly fine. Like your fight hadn’t even happened.

Like he didn’t miss you at all.

The thought stung.

You didn’t even bother lowering your voice. “Are we just not talking now?”

Sunghoon blinked up at you, slowly pulling out his headphones.

“…What?”

You crossed your arms. “You heard me. Are we seriously just going to ignore each other forever?”

His gaze flickered to the side. “I figured you didn’t want to talk to me.”

Your fingers clenched. “Are you kidding me? You literally walked away first.”

He exhaled through his nose, shutting his laptop. “I was pissed, Y/N. You said—” He hesitated. “You said I should just break up with you.”

Your breath caught.

“…And you said maybe you should.”

His jaw tightened. “You think I meant that?”

“I don’t know, Sunghoon. Did you?”

His brows furrowed, like the idea alone irritated him. “No. I didn’t.”

A pause.

Then, softer—

“Did you?”

Your lips parted slightly, realization crashing over you. “No,” you admitted. “I didn’t.”

Sunghoon sighed, running a hand down his face. “Then why the hell did we let this go on for four days?”

You swallowed hard. “Because we’re both stupid?”

For the first time in days, his lips twitched slightly.

Then he shook his head, exhaling. “I hate fighting with you.”

Your chest ached.

“…Me too.”

Sunghoon studied you for a moment, then reached out—pulling you into his arms, right there in the middle of the library.

You stiffened for half a second before melting into his warmth, inhaling his familiar scent.

“I didn’t mean it,” he murmured against your hair. “Any of it.”

Your throat tightened. “Me neither.”

Another beat of silence.

Then, teasingly—

“You are dramatic, though.”

You pinched his side. “Shut up, Park.”

His laugh was quiet, but real. “I missed you.”

You closed your eyes, breathing him in.

“I missed you too.”

©️tobiosbbyghorl - all rights reserved

taglist: @iboughtnjz @rikidaze @pocketzlocket @jaerisdiction @ijustwannareadstuff20 @doririsstuff @whateveridontcarsheesh @rikifever

bold can’t be tagged

hi!! will slowly but surely post parts of hyper&chill since exams are coming!! but since i miss them extra today >< i decided to post hehe enjoy!!

love lots! - rierie

[tikosblogg]

Hey slay

Best friend Noah x reader perchance??

Post show smut 👀👀

Feelings have been tense for a while between the two of them and after joining them on tour watching the set really made things heat up

The rest of the band and crew have been teasing Noah and reader for ages about how they act around each other

Warnings: Just smut!

A/N: THANK YOU FOR THE REQUESTS I HOPE YOU LIKE IT ❤️

Tonight felt tense… a whirlwind of emotions urging me towards something I wasn't sure I was ready for. Stage lights sliced through the venue, painting Noah in a godlike aura. He was a force of nature up there, all raw energy and primal screams, a world away from the Noah I knew.

We’d been friends for years, practically since diapers. I’d watched him chase his dreams with the kind of unwavering dedication that both inspired and intimidated me. And now, here he was, tearing up stages across the country. And here I was, trailing along as a glorified… friend.

Joining them on tour had seemed like a good idea at the time. A break from my monotonous routine, a chance to see a different side of the world. But watching Noah perform night after night had unleashed something in me I’d tried so hard to ignore. The casual teasing from the rest of the guys hadn't helped either. Every wink, every pointed look, every knowing smirk had hammered home the undeniable truth: I was completely, irrevocably, head over heels for Noah.

And apparently, everyone else knew it too.

The final chords of "Nowhere to Go" reverberated through the arena. The crowd roared, a tidal wave of sound that crashed over the stage. Noah threw his head back, sweat plastering his dark hair to his forehead, and for a split second, his eyes met mine. A jolt, like static electricity, shot through me. It was always those fleeting moments of connection that undid me.

Backstage was a bit chaotic. Everyone packing equipment, the guys unwinding, and the lingering scent of sweat and adrenaline. I navigated the throng, trying to look busy, trying to appear nonchalant, trying desperately to maintain a semblance of composure.

"Hey, love bird!" Nick's voice boomed over the din. I groaned inwardly.

"Don't you have a drum kit to dismantle?" I retorted, trying to keep the irritation from my voice.

Nick just grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Just admiring the view. You were practically drooling during 'Limits'."

My cheeks flushed, and I averted my gaze. "Shut up, Nick."

"Oh, come on," he chuckled, nudging my shoulder. "It's obvious. You're practically radiating hearts. And judging by the way Noah stares at you when he thinks you're not looking… well, let's just say the tension could cut glass."

He walked away, leaving me to stew in my embarrassment and the ever-present, frustrating truth of his words.

I caught sight of Noah near the catering table, accepting congratulations from a well-wisher. He looked exhausted but exhilarated, his smile radiating genuine joy. I wanted to be the reason for that smile. I wanted to be the one he looked for in the crowd. I wanted… more.

Taking a deep breath, I made my way over to him. "Great show," I said, trying to sound casual.

He turned, his eyes locking onto mine. The noise of the backstage faded into a dull hum. "Thanks," he said, his voice rough, still slightly panting. "You think so?"

"Think so? Noah, you were incredible. The energy was insane."

A slow smile spread across his face. "You always know what to say." He paused, his gaze intensifying. "Listen, can we talk? Somewhere else?"

My heart hammered against my ribs. Talk?? About what?? Oh my gosh. I’ve been way too obvious. He’s gonna call me out over my weird ogling.

He led me through the labyrinthine backstage corridors to the empty green room. The door clicked shut behind us, sealing us in a bubble of quietness. The room was kind of small, sparsely furnished, and smelled faintly of cologne and cigarettes.

Noah ran a hand through his hair, his nervousness mirroring my own. "Look," he began, his voice hesitant. "I know things have been… weird between us lately."

"Weird?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow. "That's one word for it."

He chuckled, the sound strained. "Okay, maybe 'weird' doesn't quite cover it. The truth is…" He trailed off, seemingly unable to find the right words.

I took a step closer, straightening my spine, not taking my eyes off his. "The truth is what?"

He looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and apprehension. "I can't stop thinking about you. All the time. Especially when I'm on stage, and I see you in the crowd, and…" He paused, taking a deep breath. "God, this is harder than singing in front of thousands of people."

"Just say it, Noah," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He reached out, gently cupping my face in his hands. His touch sent shivers down my spine. "I love you," he said, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I have for a long time. I just didn't know how to tell you."

The admission hung in the air between us, a fragile, precious thing. Tears welled up in my eyes. "I love you too," I confessed, my voice thick with emotion.

A sigh of relief shuddered through him. He lowered his head, his forehead resting against mine. "I was so scared," he murmured. "Scared of ruining our friendship, scared of losing you."

"You could never lose me," I whispered back.

He tilted my head up, his eyes searching mine. We didn't need to say anything. I simply leaned in and met his lips with my own.

The kiss was tentative at first, a gentle exploration. But as our emotions surged, it deepened, becoming more urgent, more demanding. Years of unspoken feelings, of pent-up desire, were poured into that kiss. It was a kiss that tasted of longing, of relief, of pure, unadulterated bliss.

His hands moved from my face to my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space between us. I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my fingers in his hair.

We broke apart, gasping for breath, our eyes locked. The air thick with tension. He dove in again, pulling me towards him, as we both collapsed onto the couch. 

I straddled him, my thighs pressing against his as I settled onto his lap. He groaned softly, his hands roaming up and down my body. His fingers traced the curve of my waist, then moved up to cup my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples through my shirt. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured against my neck, his lips trailing kisses along my skin.

I moaned, my hands tangling in the back of his hair as I began to move, grinding against him like I’d done this a thousand times before. His dick pressed against me, and I felt that heat coil low in my stomach. His hands were everywhere palming my ass, gripping my hips, pulling me closer as he thrusted his hips upward to meet mine.

His hands were everywhere palming my ass, gripping my hips, pulling me closer as he thrusted his hips upward to meet mine, The couch creaking beneath us. He gripped the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up and off. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. He shoved his face in my tits nipping at them. I whimpered at the delicious pain, as he pulled my bra off. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, while pinching and pulling the other one. “I need you to ride me, baby. Please.”

I nodded, going to stand up so I could take the rest of my clothes off, But his hands gripped my hips tighter stopping me. Before I could ask what he was doing, he shoved my skirt up around my waist. My breath hitched at the sheer desperation in his movements.

I gasped as he shoved his hands into my now soaked panties moaning at how wet I was. He slid his fingers through my slick folds, teasing me as i lightly bucked my hips against them. My hips bucked wilder, my breath coming in sharp gasps. His hand tightened on my hip, as his thumb softly brushed my clit. His whispered praise driving me towards the edge. “My gorgeous girl..you're so fucking perfect.”

His words fueled me, making me feel sexy, and wanted in a way I’d never experienced before. I finally managed to speak through my constant whimpers and moans. My hands gripping his shirt against his chest. "Noah please...I want you." He didn't think twice, before finally pushing his joggers down enough to release his aching dick. "Go ahead baby..." I nodded, my eyes finding his. I leaned back slightly, my hands braced on his thighs as I slowly sank down onto him. The feeling was intoxicating, and I could already feel the tight knot of pleasure that demanded release.

His eyes never left mine, his gaze intense and worshipful. “You’re so pretty baby,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Every fucking inch of you.”

I bit my lip, my cheeks flushing at his words. “Noah… I—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, his hand cupping my breast, squeezing and biting it again. “Just feel it. Feel how much I want you.” His lips brushed my heated skin as he spoke.

And I did. I felt it in the way his hands gripped me, in the way his body moved with mine, in the way his breath quickened while I rode him.

His fingers dug into my hip, guiding them as he thrust upward. His other hand wrapping around your throat, pulling you into another desperate messy kiss. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he groaned, his voice a low rumble. “So tight. So perfect.”

His words sent a jolt of pleasure through me, and I felt myself teetering on the edge. “Noah… I’m close,” I panted, my voice shaky.

“Me too,” he growled, his hands moving to my thighs, spreading them wider as he angled his hips to hit deeper. “Come on pretty girl, cum for me.”

That was all it took. I cried out, my body trembling as my orgasm washed over me, waves of pleasure crashing through. His name escaped my lips on a breathless moan, and I felt him thrusting harder and quicker into me, his own release following close behind.

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, his head falling back against the couch as he came, his hands still gripping me tightly. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you cum.”

I collapsed onto his chest, breathless and sated, my heart still racing. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close as he kissed the top of my head. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice soft but steady.

I smiled, my fingers tracing the tattoos on his chest. “I love you too,” I murmured.

[lexirosewrites]

Day 12: Mating/Bonding

for @stmarchmm

The truly fucked up thing about it is that Eddie has been looking forward to this day for months.

Well, if he’s being technical about it, he’s been daydreaming about his and Steve’s bonding day since his sophomore year of high school.

There was a time in Eddie’s life when he would doodle “SH+EM” in his notebooks during math class, happier to plan an impossible future than learn how to graph slopes.

Maybe that’s why he failed his senior year twice.

He’ll never tell Wayne that the first time was actually on purpose.

Okay, sue him, he had a silly, embarrassing, massive fucking crush on the younger boy and he wanted to be in the same classes as him.

The second time Eddie failed, it was entirely because he couldn’t stop staring at the omega long enough to learn anything worth while.

Steve was worth failing for.

Wayne might have had some strong words about it if he knew, but it seems Eddie got away with that mortifying bit of trivia.

As it is, he managed to hide his fruitless crush for quite a while. At least until it wasn’t fruitless anymore.

In fact, it’s been very fruitful!

So much so that they’re holding a bonding ceremony today in front of all their friends and family in just a few minutes.

Eddie is going to commit his life and love to Steve, promise to protect him and their pack as alpha, and take a vow of faithfulness, til death do they part.

And that scares the absolute shit out of him.

Don’t misunderstand him, Eddie loves Steve beyond measurable words! He’s absolutely wonderful.

Steve is the most beautiful omega alive with the biggest heart and the tightest, wettest, juiciest pus—

He’s getting off track now and he has to focus.

Because if Eddie can’t get himself together and get out in front of a packed chapel in just a few minutes, it’s going to look like he doesn’t love Steve.

He’s afraid of lots of things in life.

Demobats, Robin, Dustin’s baking skills, Robin, ending up like his father, and most importantly, Robin.

But never of loving Steve. That’s the only thing he’s ever been 100% sure of.

And yet he is frozen in fear.

“Ed, it’s just about time to get things started. How ya feelin’ in here?”

Thank fuck for Wayne.

The only man (aside from Steve) who has ever been able to understand him.

Eddie doesn’t need to say a word about his current panic. All he has to do is turn to his uncle and his face says it all.

Wayne speaks fluent ‘Eddie.’

“Son, what’s on yer mind? That sweet boy of yers is getting all dolled up for ya right now and yer mind clearly ain’t there.”

“I’m going to do something to fuck this up and Steve won’t love me anymore,” Eddie blurts out.

There’s no point beating around the bush.

He’s been thinking about it all morning. Maybe longer than that. Maybe ever since Steve accepted his final courting gift and subsequent bonding proposal.

Part of him thought their entire courting was a cruel joke the universe was playing on him anyway.

Life has never been very fair to Eddie. He doesn’t waste time crying about it or whatever, but shit has always been unnecessary rough and he’s used to that.

But this was truly insane.

A perfect omega like Steve Harrington has no business even talking to an alpha like Eddie, let alone being courted by him.

The only reason he’d even started courting Steve is that Robin threatened to break his arm if he didn’t “man up and ask him out already, you lovesick loser!”

Robin really scares him.

But it had worked and they’ve been going steady ever since.

Every day feels like a dream and every morning Eddie wakes up expecting to find that it really was all a dream and he’s back dozing off in math class after doodling their initials in hearts again.

It’s a nightmare.

No, loving Steve doesn’t scare him, but the idea of potentially losing him terrifies Eddie.

“Well now, I think you’ve had too much time thinkin’ by yerself, kid. Ain’t a damn thing that could pull the two of ya apart, far as I can see. A sturdy axe and strong arm couldn’t split you boys up.”

Wayne’s words of wisdom always come from a place of love. And a simple explanation of life the way he views it.

Eddie’s not entirely sold on it yet, but he wants to believe that there’s hope for them.

He wants—no, needs— a life by Steve’s side more than anything else.

“That’s all fine and dandy, Wayne, but what about when I do something stupid and he realizes what kind of dumbass he’s mated to? What if he starts to hate me and he’s stuck with me?” Eddie challenges back.

Wayne sighs, coming forward to straighten the wrinkled lapels of Eddie’s jacket.

He meticulously smoothes them out from where Eddie was pulling at them nervously.

“Do you remember that time ya were supposed to pick Steve up for the movies and ya forgot ya had band practice that night?”

Oh god. That was one of Eddie’s lowest moments in life.

They both cried that night.

“Yeah, of course I do. I left Steve waiting in the rain and I felt terrible about it! Is that supposed to make me feel better or are you telling me that I’m right and I shouldn’t go through with this?”

Wayne gives him a look.

It’s the one that says he should shut up and listen.

He does.

“Ed, you’ve fucked up before. Ya left him in the rain, ya spilled ketchup on his favorite yellow shirt, ya tried to trim up his hair and took a big chunk out of it instead.”

Eddie wants to crawl under a rock and wait there until he’s dead and nobody can find him ever again.

“Yes, I get it! I’m stupid and reckless and I hurt the people I love! This pep talk sucks ass, Wayne.”

His uncle finally smiles. Such a weird old man. Proof that he’s a Munson.

“You’ve done just ‘bout everything ya can do to fuck things up and Steve still wants to be your mate, son. He loves ya.”

Oh.

Hmmm.

Yeah, that’s true. He has fucked up. On numerous occasions.

Never on purpose, but Steve has always forgiven him graciously regardless. That’s the kind of man he is.

Wayne wraps his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and pulls him close for a tight hug, like the old days.

“Steve isn’t going anywhere. He’s made that clear. Now ya need to honor that decision by pulling yer head out of yer ass and showing him that he’s making the right choice today. Go get yer boy, Ed,” Wayne whispers emphatically.

Eddie has to wipe away a few stray tears first.

Then he struts into that chapel with his head held high, a new confidence in his step.

When Steve walks down the aisle to meet him, he’s as beautiful as ever.

Clothed in pure white and a natural blush that makes Eddie want to do nasty things to his omega.

He’s ready for forever.

“Hi, baby.”

[quins-heart16]

LEWIS HAMILTONX FEM READER

RACING AGAINST TIME

It had been a year. A long, agonizing year since Lewis walked out of my life, leaving nothing behind except the deafening silence of a love lost to my own mistakes.

I should have known better. Should have listened to my heart instead of the wrong voices whispering in my ear. My so-called friends—people who claimed they had my best interests at heart—convinced me that Lewis wasn’t as invested as I was. That his lifestyle, the flashing lights, the constant travel, meant I was only an accessory in his world. And I believed them.

One night, I let it all explode.

“You never have time for me, Lewis,” I snapped, arms crossed, my voice laced with bitterness. “You’re always on the road, always with your team, always with—” I hesitated, swallowing the jealousy that burned inside me.

His brows furrowed. “With who, exactly?” he asked, his voice calm but dangerously low.

I scoffed, shaking my head. “I don’t know, Lewis. The media sure has a lot to say. And my friends think—”

“Your friends?” His expression hardened. “Since when do your friends know anything about our relationship?”

I faltered, but my pride wouldn’t let me back down. “They see what I see. You’re never here.”

His jaw clenched, frustration flashing in his eyes. “I work, Y/N. I race. This isn’t just my career—it’s my life. But that doesn’t mean you’re not a part of it.” He ran a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. “I love you. Or at least, I thought you knew that.”

I did. I knew it deep down. But my insecurities, fueled by the wrong people, made me push him further away.

“If you really loved me, you’d make more time,” I shot back.

His eyes darkened with something I had never seen before—disappointment. “I have given you everything I could,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “But if that’s not enough for you…”

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. I wanted to take the words back, to tell him I was scared, but my pride kept me frozen.

Lewis exhaled, his decision made. “I can’t keep proving myself to someone who refuses to believe in me.”

Then he walked out the door.

Blocked. From his life. From his world. From him.

The first few weeks were unbearable. I told myself he needed space. That maybe he’d come back once he cooled down. But weeks turned into months, and soon, an entire year had passed. And yet, I still found myself scrolling through old photos of us, still replaying our late-night conversations in my mind. Still breaking down in tears when I saw his name on a podium, realizing that I was no longer the person he called after a victory.

Then one night, sitting alone in my apartment, I whispered into the darkness, “I miss you, Lewis.”

My phone, silent as ever, mocked me.

But I couldn’t give up.

Because I knew now—more than ever—that I had lost the best thing that had ever happened to me. And maybe, just maybe, if I found the right words, if I showed him how much I had grown, he’d give me one more chance.

I took a deep breath and typed out the message I had been too afraid to send for an entire year.

Me: I know I don’t deserve it, but if there’s even the smallest chance, can we talk?

I stared at the screen, my heart pounding. Three dots appeared. Then disappeared.

I waited.

Because love like ours didn’t just disappear.

And if there was even the smallest chance, I was ready to fight for us.

[https-murdock]

trust me - matt murdock

summary: when you finally get your dads best friend alone, you take your opportunity.

word count: 1,281

warnings: ⚠️ smut, dbf!matt (it’s own warning), age gap (not stated but legal obvs), oral f!receiving

note: heyyy i wanted to put this out to battle through the writers block howeverrr im gonna write either a part 2 or a separate dbf moment cause this one ain’t that gooood sorry :( learning to put the plot in my smut lol <3

maybe it’s because he’s your dads best friend.

you’ve known him for a few years. when he and your dad started working together on a case that crossed both of their paths, they bonded and he started coming over more, and with you living at home for a while this meant you saw him each time.

you can’t help but wonder if you’re seeing it right when you catch him listening to you potter around over your dads shoulder, that smug little smirk gracing his lips again. or the uncomfortable shuffle he does when you tell your dad you’re going on a date. you can’t help but think he may just feel the same as you do.

but you leave all those feelings aside, all those wondering thoughts because that could never happen.

sometimes you can even see his cross necklace, and you almost giggle when you realise how unholy you are for thinking about your dads best friend this way.

they’d known each other years, their relationship building while you were away at school, seeing matt when you came home during breaks or for a couple visits. there was always something in the way his voice had that drawl… the way you had to press your legs together for some form of release even just from a lingering hug. so, when your dad said he was going away for work, you saw your chance.

“i’m going away for a couple days, matt is only across the road if you need him. no messing around while im gone.” your dad had said, and he had no idea what that phrase meant to you when matt was in the same sentence.

seeing your opportunity, you ‘accidentally’ leave your key inside the house after your dad leaves… giving you no other option but to go see if matt has a spare - and you know he doesn’t.

you notice the way your heart flutters, the way it sits differently in your chest as you’re approaching his front door, and you take a second to question whether this is a bad idea, when the door opens for you.

“oh, sorry sweetheart i didn’t realise you were there.” he smirks, and you wonder how he knows it’s you so quickly - matt knows it’s because he recognises that perfume that makes him painfully hard every time he smells it.

matt knows it’s a shared feeling. he can smell you from so far away, and sometimes it feels like he could taste your slick in the air after you hear him talk.

but matt could never cross that line… could he?

“it-it’s ok, i left my keys inside the house but my dads away for a couple days. you don’t have a spare key do you?” you try to speak with your voice straight, tone as it normally would be, but the more you try the more you begin to think you’re making it worse. “oh uh, no i don’t.” he says, and you both stand there in a moment of silence, both wondering what to say next to ease the tension.

“stay here. i have a spare bed you can take ‘till your dad gets back.” he says, and part of you wonders if he is annoyed like he seems, or if he’s just hesitant to let you closer.

“are you sure? i’ll keep out your way, unless you don’t want me to?” you smirk, wanting to see what pushing this a little further would get you.

“you’re trouble.”

—

“we really shouldn’t do this.” he mutters to himself, letting you slip off his dress shirt as you straddle him. “why? who’s gonna know?” you whisper into his ear, feeling his hands mould to your skin as you leave hot kisses down his neck.

“if your dad found out the way i’m touching his daughter, i would loose my head.” he grunts, flipping you so your back sticks to his leather couch. “trust me, we’ll be fine.” you confirm, gasping when he starts kissing your inner thighs.

you toss your head back, basking in the heat his lips bring to your skin, feeling the way they move closer to where you so desperately need him to be. his calloused hands finally grace the waist of your panties, dragging them painfully slow down your legs, tossing them somewhere behind him.

“fuck, wanted to taste this pussy for the longest time.” you’re unsure whether he’s talking to himself at the point, as his head lowers toward your slick.

“p-please, fuck.” the words come out as stutters, almost unintelligible as you wait to be given what you need.

finally, even though isn’t sure why, he lets his trust in you take over. licking a broad stripe up your glimmering folds and groaning to himself at the taste, matt grinds his boxer-only-clad body into the couch, searching for some release.

“god you’re so desperate for this, aren’t you sweetheart?” he chuckles from in between your legs, strong beard rubbing against your skin as you finally let your hands weasel their way into his hair. “so desperate.” you say, and the words tumble out so quick you can’t help the blush that rises on your cheeks.

“little slut, getting this wet for your daddy’s best friend, huh?” he drawls, his voice low and scratching as his lips finally wrap around your clit, a gentle suck making your legs clench around his head.

as you finally feel the exact touch you’ve been asking for, you realise that you’ve both fallen way too deep into this to back out. “i see the way you-ah, fuck, see the way you look at me,” you begin, trying to speak full sentences and failing with his tongue working the way it is, “i know you want this just as much as me.”

there’s a short scoff between your legs, but no reply as you find two of his fingers inside your walls with no build up, the hairs on your body standing up as your moans drift further. “smart mouth isn’t so loud when you’re about to come, huh?” he smirks, wet beard glimmering in the light from his windows.

that’s when it hits you like a train, his fingers still working you through your high, and his hips still grinding into his couch in search of a hint of you.

“holy shit.” is all that leaves your mouth as he sits up, wiping his face with the back of his hand. matt lifts his fingers, fresh with your slick, to your lips - and as you open them and take them in, relishing in the taste of yourself, he says “we should stop now, before it goes too far.” and your heart sinks at the realisation he’s being serious.

“do you not trust me?” you ask him, smirking at your own words from earlier, unsure whether you even trust yourself to keep your feelings separate.

“trust my best friends daughter? not sure if that’s a smart idea, sweetheart.”

tags 🏷️

@lambmurdock @parker-murdock @silas-aeiou @audreyclimbs @pupmurdock @millennial-birkin @poeticbookwormcat

[for-your-modesty-dude]

Little Miss Tutor

A/N: Hey hey! I haven't been around for awhile, mostly because I've been doing a deep clean of everything I own. Some early spring cleaning, if you will. But this idea actually came from a journal I used to write in when I was in high school (which makes the journal easily a decade old... no comment.) and as I saw this concept written in there, I thought this was so perfectly Eddie. I hope you enjoy it! It's just some fluff, friends to lovers stuff. For the record - I believe Eddie and reader are both in early-to-mid twenties here. R has already been out of college, so they're not college roommates. Just normal roommates, and Eddie is also trying to get himself through college while he works his job. Not necessarily relevant to the actual story, but there's some lore that stays stuck in my brain LOL. I'm the queen of backstories, no matter how short the blurb. - Hy

Summary: You’re roommates with Eddie and he's trying to get through college years later than most students. You’re also secretly deeply in love with him. But that feels inappropriate to share.

Warnings: uhhh... none I can think of. This is just a fluffy blurb.

Word Count: ~1k

It was late at night, maybe 2 in the morning, when you woke up cold and thirsty. You pulled on a pair of your fuzziest socks before padding down the steps into the kitchen for a glass of water. You were so exhausted and set on getting your water that you missed the wide open bedroom door on your way down, but not so exhausted that you missed it on your way back to your room. You peered in to find your roommate Eddie awake at his desk, hair disheveled and in his favorite pajamas.

“Eddie?” You whispered, shuffling into the room. “What the hell are you doing still up?”

His head snapped up and he swiveled around in his desk chair. “Hey, sweetheart,” he gave you a sleepy smile, “I’m just finishing up, actually. Was going through my notes for tomorrow. What are you doing up?”

You couldn’t answer him because of the breath caught in your throat. Sure, you’d always liked the guy, but in his baggy old pajamas, mussed up curls, and sleepy voice, it was taking all of your self control not to give your crush away by throwing your arms around him and kissing him right then and there. It was only when he cocked an eyebrow and called your name that you came back to life and answered him. 

“Sorry,” you snapped out of your trance with a blush, “I’m just going back to my room, I was getting a glass of water.” You put a hand on your hip and pursed your lips, “you need to get some rest, Eddie.” 

The boy ran a hand through his hair, only messing it up further. “Yeah, I know. But I really need to pass this exam tomorrow.”

“You’ve been studying for days, hon. Besides, what have I told you before?” You asked him with playful lilt in your voice, and he groaned. 

“‘Your brain doesn’t store information properly if you don’t get a good night’s sleep,’” he quoted with a groan and a deep sigh, before he stood and stretched. You were still looking at him like a mother scolding their small child, which made him chuckle. “Yeah, yeah, little miss tutor.”

“Excuse me if I happen to know what I’m talking about,” you pouted. 

“Sure,” he nodded, casually striding past you to close the door, flicking the lights off. You gave him a confused look in the darkness, before he approached you and swiftly threw you over his shoulder. You let out an indignant squeak, but tried to keep from blushing too hard despite the darkness. 

“Edward Munson! Just what do you think you’re doing!” You asked him, smacking his back lightly.

“You’re the expert, right?” He tossed you down onto his bed, “then help me sleep.”

You were never more grateful for the darkness, as it masked your wide eyes and deep crimson cheeks. 

“Um- o-okay?” You managed. He got under the covers next to you, and just turned to face you. You stared back at him, heart pounding.

“So,” he started, but was cut off by a yawn, “what do you suggest? For the best night of sleep, I mean.”

“I-I-” he’d caught you so off guard, you barely knew your own name, much less how to help him sleep. “I don’t know.”

“Mkay,” he hummed, “then I’ll try my own way.” He put an arm around your waist and pulled you against his chest, tangling his legs with yours. “I’m gonna take a guess and say that like this, I’ll get an amazing night’s sleep.” 

Despite your nerves, you seemed to relax at the proximity, allowing yourself to melt into his embrace. “I know I will,” you mumbled. He smiled to himself, and by the time you’d fully gotten comfortable against him, he was sound asleep. 

The next morning, he woke up before his alarm, feeling incredibly well rested. He felt a warmth against his chest and remembered what he’d done the night before, his eyes going wide. He looked down to find you asleep peacefully against him, and decided he didn’t regret what he’d done - no matter the consequences. Sure, he was terrified that you might catch onto his massive crush on you and let him down easy, but it had been worth it. In the middle of his overthinking, you stirred. 

Your eyelids fluttered open slowly and you nearly jumped out of your own skin when you realized where you were. “G-good morning,” you managed to stutter out.

“Good morning,” he rasped back, sending shivers down your spine. He felt your body react and didn’t think anything of it besides that you might be cold, so he pulled the blankets further up around the both of you. “That was easily the best sleep I’ve had in a very long time, didja know that?” You shook your head at him. “Well, it was.”

“Me too,” you told him. 

“I like waking up like this,” he commented. “Only one thing could make it better.” You looked up at him, contemplating for a moment before deciding to be bold - cupping his cheeks and pulling his face down so you could kiss him. He gladly let you do so, only pulling back to take in some air. 

“That- that was the one thing, yeah,” his voice cracked. He calmed his nerves a moment before leaning back down to kiss you this time, more prepared. This time, when he pulled back, he was grinning from ear to ear. “You know what? I think I’m gonna nail this exam later. And as a reward, I think you should let me take you on a date.”

“Yeah, Munson,” you grinned back at him, “I think I can agree to those terms.”